


American Slang - On Haitus

by orphan_account



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Eventual Sex, M/M, Minor Character Death, Not Canon Compliant, Pre-Canon, Romance, Series Spoilers, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-19 21:03:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 53,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3624189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It didn't matter what they did, how hard they tried to pull away. There was no Kougami without Ginoza, and no Ginoza without Kougami. Chronicling their tumultous relationship pre season one through season two and beyond. Rated for eventual smut and canon typical violence. Warning for dub con in late chapters.</p><p>On haitus as of 3/9/2016</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a very slow burn, and possibly a very long fic. I intend fully to finish it, but that might take a while. For that, I'm sorry. I just really, really love these characters and intend to do them justice. I appreciate and respond to comments, and kudos are well loved. Fic title is an album by The Gaslight Anthem, a lot of their songs inspired my characterization for this work.

_I saw tail lights last night in a dream about my old life_  
_Everybody leaves, so why, why wouldn't you?_  
-The Gaslight Anthem, Great Expectations

"I don't know where to start with him." Kougami lit another cigarette and watched Masaoka pull gin from the cabinet.

"You think I do? He hasn't said a word to me in ten years. At least, not one that wasn't an order." Masaoka poured two glasses, long double shots, and handed one to Kougami.

Kougami shook his head no. "Not on the job. Sorry, old man."

"More for me, then. Sorry, Inspector. How come you're not asking Nobu- sorry- Inspector Ginoza about these things?"

"You can drop the formality." Kougami took a long draw of his cigarette. "I just, he's not himself anymore."

"How so?"

"I mean, he was always serious. He's fanatically driven, always known he's wanted this job, since way before I met him. But he's worse now that he has it. I-I haven't even had a decent conversation with him in days. Weeks, maybe." Kougami scoffed, leaned forward and hung his head. He knew he should have known this would happen the second he saw Ginoza in the lecture hall. He was too focused to thrive in such a chaotic environment.

"You two haven't been here long." Masaoka downed the glass he had poured for Kougami. "Maybe he's adjusting, or the job didn't solve what he wanted it to solve. Or maybe he doesn't like much being here in Division one with me."

"I just want to make things right."

"You sure it's something you can make right? You ever consider that he's gotten what he wanted? Maybe this is just how he's trying to keep it."

"I guess you really don't know him." Kougami stubbed out his cigarette. "He's not happy. It's affecting his Hue. Not that he wants me to know, but I've bothered to check more than a couple times." He lit another cigarette, scuffed his shoes against the ground. "He barely eats, doesn't sleep, all he is anymore is this job."

"It'll do that to you. Back when I first joined, an Inspector in Division three had to be put down. Poor bastard Tougane hasn't come back from having to pull the trigger on her. But that's why we have Enforcers, I guess. So you guys don't get like that. Not if we do our jobs right."

Kougami nodded. "I joined up here to protect him. Same as you. Don't act like you think I didn't see your request to move to Division one."

Masaoka nodded his assent. "Are we failing that badly?"

"Hopefully not. I just, I mean, did he get like this when he was a kid? How do you force a grown man to take care of himself?"

"No. No he was a happy kid. Bright as anything, too. Maybe it's just the father in me talking. Maybe there were things I didn't see." He drank his second glass of gin, refilled it. "All we can do is make sure he doesn't go down in flames."

Kougami stood, put out his cigarette. "He'll be on duty soon, wondering where I am."

"Go on ahead. I'm off tonight." Masaoka sat back, savoring his drink. He propped his feet on the coffee table, watched Kougami stand to leave.

"I'll see you, old man." Kougami left the small, standard issue Enforcer's flat, let out a heavy, long sigh. Facing Ginoza again was going to be hard, watching that slow spiral of self destruction his partner was pushing himself into. It had been hard, these few weeks, since they had been moved to Division one. Worse when Masaoka joined.

Kougami didn't pretend to know what was going on in his friend's head. He didn't pretend he understood that pressure, that fixation on his work. Sure, he liked what he did. He knew he was doing good for the country, and there was a part of Kougami that had always wanted to be a detective. To help people, to lock the bad ones away. Get help for the people who could still be saved. Maybe it was an idealistic notion, but it was something Kougami understood. Unlike Ginoza. He seemed to be there because it was a need. There was no desire behind it, no passion, just need. Ginoza had wanted this for so long that it had become who it was. It scared Kougami, just a little. He cared about Ginoza, maybe more than he should. Wanted him to be clear, to be peaceful, to be happy. He wasn't sure Ginoza could be happy.

And there he was, same as he always was, hunched over his desk, typing out the first check in of the evening. Division one was small, just him, Ginoza, and the enforcers. They had been warned not to get close to their enforcers, warned that most of them were temporary, coming and going as their Coefficients spiked, as they became irredeemable. But Kougami had never seen that happen, and his team all came across as pretty good people. Sasayama was on duty that night, barely spared him more than a passing glance, a friendly enough nod of the head.

"Are you pulling a double shift tonight?" Ginoza didn't look up from his work.

"No. Just here to make sure you're situated. Unless you want me to stay?" Kougami offered, leaning against his partner's desk.

He shook his head no. "Go home. I've got things here." From the angle Kougami was standing, he could see the hollows of his cheeks, bags under his eyes. 

He took a deep breath, but didn't comment. It wasn't really his job to keep his partner healthy. They were supposed to be monitored for that. He probably had alerts telling him to eat, to sleep, to take care of himself, and likely he ignored every single one. And still it was not Kougami's place to comment, to interfere. So he simply nodded, grabbed his jacket and resolved to come in early the next morning to check on Ginoza.

It was cold outside, bitter, he could see his breath and yet still chose to walk, the apartment he was sharing with Ginoza wasn't too far from their offices. Besides, the walk gave him time to smoke, time to think. Time to worry about the man he supposedly shared living space with, yet never saw. In all fairness, that made for a good roomate. Kougami may as well have lived alone. And Ginoza was clean, kept to himself, if he came home at all. Kougami couldn't remember the last time they were home together, sitting on the barely used sofa, maybe beer was involved. Must have been when they were first hired on, before the work got to be too much for either of them to take. Because he had to admit that sometimes it was too much for him to take.

He collapsed onto the sofa, not even bothering to turn on the lights, and stared at the ceiling, waiting for his eyes to adjust to total darkness. The last two nights he had slept on the sofa in the rec room at the PSB, and the vending machine lights, soft electronic sounds had been relaxing. In total darkness, in silence, even the curtains drawn, he felt oddly alone. Of course, Kougami was alone, and he used to relish that feeling. Now he found himself imagining Ginoza's quiet footfalls, straining to hear the sounds of the apartment's computer systems.

The silence felt heavy, oppressive, and he found his mind wandering back to the conversation he had with Masaoka just an hour ago. He knew it wasn't fair, for him to confide in someone he wasn't even supposed to think of as human, but Kougami didn't think it was fair to treat his Enforcers as anything other than human. And Masaoka made sense to him. The man wasn't a criminal, he was a detective. And now he was barely even that. He was a man trying to keep his son from self destruction. Not that Kougami really thought anyone could keep Ginoza from self destructing, least of all someone he professed to hate. Kougami didn't think anyone else in Division one knew. For all anyone knew, Masaoka had been transferred, an old dog to help his new masters learn the ropes. If they put that much thought into it at all. But Kougami had seen the transfer form. He knew Masaoka had begged to be transferred, promised not to tell anyone why. Kougami would have done the same thing. And maybe it was very, very wrong to think that he understood the Enforcer's line of thought.

Kougami didn't know when he had fallen asleep, but when he woke he was still sprawled across the sofa. He could see the faintest lines of sunlight peeking through the curtains, telling him morning had come quite without his permission. He groaned, sitting up, and demanded the computer make coffee and run hot water for a shower. Clothing peeled off in a trail to the bathroom, wrinkled suit jacket and stained trousers made an easy to follow map of his shuffled footfalls. They had decided that the fancier room systems were unnecessary, so there was no chipper voice announcing the news, or his personal calendar, but the holo on the shower wall told him it was just past six in the morning, the sun had only barely risen, and it was going to rain again. Or maybe it was already raining. Kougami didn't pay attention to that part. He didn't care. It had been raining for three days now, and it would probably rain the rest of the week. Unimportant. He wondered how hard it would be to get the computer to show him Ginoza's alerts. His latest coefficients, sleeping patterns and caloric intake. Ginoza had probably disabled all of that anyway. He wouldn't want to see his own spiraling downfall.

Kougami shut the shower off and threw on a clean suit, took his coffee black, another cigarette, ignored the computer's recommendation of breakfast. He'd pick something up from the cafe Ginoza used to like, when they were actually communicating. Might get him to eat something. It wasn't that much of a detour from his walking route. He ordered tea, a fruit filled pastry, and, after a thought, two more. Then it wasn't about feeding Ginoza, wouldn't be mistaken as patronizing.

Masaoka shushed him before he made it into the office, gestured to the glass door. Ginoza was slumped over the keyboard, fast asleep, Sasayama finishing the report for him. Kougami nodded, stepped inside quietly, handed Sasayama one of the breakfast pastries and approached Ginoza's desk. The man was breathing soft, his head on his skinny arm, hand at the keyboard even still. His glasses were pushed up against his nose, making an indent on his cheek, and Kougami slipped them off gently, nudged his shoulder.

"Gino, hey."

Ginoza made a soft noise, rubbed his face against his arm and blinked slowly awake. Kougami was momentarily surprised, hadn't expected those soft, fair features, shockingly hollow even still. "What time is it?"

"Half past six. You're off duty in another hour. I brought pastries and tea." Kougami smiled, resisted the urge to ruffle Ginoza's soft black hair, took an indulgent moment to watch as Ginoza brushed his own hands through it, replaced his glasses. He reached for the tea, and Kougami gently pushed it towards his hands. "Got your favorite." 

Ginoza nodded, the smallest bit of a smile touching his face. Kougami returned the smile, brighter to see him relaxed. Even brighter when Ginoza took the pastry, breaking it into pieces to eat. "How'd the night go?" Kougami finally asked, when he thought Ginoza had time to wake.

"One alert, just past three. Domestic dispute, both parties are in separate therapy." Ginoza answered, taking the lid off his tea so it could cool.

"Easy night then, good. And Div two's taking watch, so you and I can get some rest."

Ginoza merely nodded, still tired. "You're not even supposed to be in today."

"Figured I could make sure you get home."

"I don't need to be coddled, Kougami."

"And I'm not coddling you. Just, as your friend, you know. I want to make sure you're doing well."

Ginoza nodded, sitting up straight. "Let me finish with these reports, then."

Kougami sunk into his own desk chair, eating his pastry and watching Ginoza read over the report Sasayama had made, fixing and refining the document. Sasayama shrugged, left the office, brushing past Kougami with a friendly smile. Kougami raised one hand to wave, sunk forward and laid on his arms, watching Ginoza again. The Inspector was singularly focused, ignoring the half finished tea, pastry broken into tiny pieces, a few still remained. His hair was growing out again, black strands brushing the frames of his glasses, not quite hiding the hollows of his cheeks, covering his tired eyes. Kougami let him work, finish out his shift, before he crossed the room to Ginoza's desk. He allowed himself one simple touch, a hand on Ginoza's shoulder, squeezing soft. "Hey, come on. Let's go home."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the love that got showered on chapter one! Means a lot to me. I hope I'm doing justice to this world, these characters, this pairing. As always, I deeply appreciate comments and kudos. And to the one person who bookmarked this fic, you're my hero. I'll try and update every week or so, but I'm a bit of a grown up with a full time job, so I might not be able to keep that schedule. This chapter didn't get as much editing as I would have liked, so feel free to drop me a note if I missed something.

_Come on skinny love, just last the year_  
\- Bon Iver, Skinny Love

Ginoza groaned, stood and stretched, pulled his coat on. Kougami held in a thought about how small he looked, dwarfed even by a well cut black trenchcoat. Instead, he held the door, managed a genuine smile when Ginoza looked at him and finally saw something instead of work. He saw it in the way those eyes, vaguely green, lit up, the way his shoulders finally relaxed.

As expected, Ginoza determinedly ignored the messages that popped up on the apartment holo when they walked in, swiped it aside and shut himself in the small bathroom. Kougami heard the shower turn on, the sound of another holo alert, and a curse that he didn't think Ginoza knew he could hear. Still, Kougami allowed himself a small smile at the sign of humanity. Even irritation was a step up from what they had these last few weeks. Kougami had the room system prepare tea, warm up the apartment some, hoping Ginoza would sleep much of the afternoon. Curling up on the end of the sofa, Kougami took his mug and grabbed a book from the shelf, Murakami. He wasn't in much a mood for anything difficult. It was a love story, deeply seated in music and in philosophy, and sweet, in it's own way. He could imagine the long walks, the ancient record players, but it was Ginoza at his side. He wasn't sure he was ready for that. But the further he read, the more he saw himself and Ginoza, in the quiet moments, in the space between the lines.

The shower turned off without Kougami noticing, and his roomate, his partner, stepped out, dressed casually for an afternoon free of work, jeans and a black sweater. He tugged the sleeves past his hands, settled on the sofa with Kougami. He had a small tablet with him, tired, he paged through the news headlines. Long minutes ticked by, no sound save for the rain pattering on the apartment window. Eventually Kougami realized that Ginoza had fallen asleep, his head tilted forward, tablet still glowing soft against his pale face. His glasses had slid to the edge of his nose and Kougami moved them, gentle so as not to wake him, set them on an end table. Ginoza shifted, a small hitch in his breath warm against his partner's hand when Kougami took his glasses, but he didn't wake. That was a step in the right direction. So Kougami got into the small storage closet, grabbed a blanket and draped it over the man's thin form. It was growing hard not to stay close, not to settle beside him and continue reading, hope he could be some form of comfort to his friend. But he forced himself to the other side of the sofa, opened his book again and tried to pay Ginoza no mind.

He didn't even need those stupid glasses. But there they sat, glinting in the dim light, perched on the end of the edge of the end table where Kougami had set them. Ginoza had never admitted it, but Kougami saw all the tells. He looked out at things over the thin silver rims, tilted them down when he was sitting at his computer working on reports or checking in with the higher-ups. He didn't work with them. He didn't use them. Kougami didn't know if he would ever get up the nerve to ask, then, why he held on to those glasses like they were a lifeline. Or a shield. What he was hiding, or hiding from. They weren't cosmetic. Ginoza didn't care what he looked like. If he did, he would cut his hair, sleep more to rid himself of the deep dark around his eyes. He wouldn't be so rail thin. Kougami realized he didn't mind. He just wanted Ginoza to be alright. He was already beautiful. Kougami shook his head, didn't know where that thought came from. But it lingered, in the soft fall of Ginoza's breathing, in his skinny body curled in on itself, as if fighting cold Kougami couldn't feel. He raised the temperature of the room again, pulled off his loose sweater, and wandered to his own bedroom to grab a plain short sleeved shirt. Ginoza was still sleeping, more comfortable now, he had managed to settle length-ways on the sofa, knees pulled to his chest, breathing soft and even.

It must have been hours before either of them stirred, Ginoza from his sleep, Kougami from his reading. The apartment systems alerted them that it should be time for a midday meal, suggested caloric intake and food pairings. Ginoza groaned, shut off the reminders and pushed himself to his feet, stretched and put his glasses back on.

"You let me sleep half the day out."

"When was the last time you slept at all?"

Ginoza shrugged, avoided granting him an answer. Instead, he turned to the computer terminal, had the system supply him with a light lunch, coffee, despite the system's protests about his current caffeine intake. Kougami fought back a laugh at Ginoza's muttered retort to a computer who was not programmed to respond.

"See, even the computer knows you should be sleeping more." Kougami meant it as a gentle tease, but Ginoza narrowed a glare, took his coffee, his lunch, and fell back to the sofa.

Kougami sat beside him, closer than he had allowed himself to be before. "Hey. Gino, I'm sorry. Just a little worried, is all."

"I'm perfectly capable of caring for myself, Kou." The nickname slipped out, and Ginoza flinched, hadn't meant to.

"I know. You just choose not to."

"I'll be fine. Work's just been demanding. Not that you would know. You spent the last hour of your shift paying a personal visit to an Enforcer."

"Needed some information he had, is all."

"What kind? Is it something the whole team should know?" Ginoza snapped.

"Sorry. I should have told you I meant to talk to him."

"So you were talking about me."

"We were talking about the job."

Ginoza turned away, pulled his knees to his chest and rested his head. His outgrown bangs covered his eyes, but there was a distinct tremble to his shoulders. Kougami had upset him. Kougami moved closer, rested his hand on his partner's back.

"I'm sorry." He offered, moving his hand between Ginoza's shoulder blades. He could feel the notches in his spine through the faded black sweater. He could feel each movement of his shaking breaths, and still Ginoza made no attempt to move him, even to shy away from the touch. So Kougami's hand remained, coaxing up and down his spine while Ginoza calmed his breathing. And he did calm, slowly, his hands relaxed but he didn't unfold his skinny body. 

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because I made you upset. And I needed to fix that."

"You're not fixing anything."

"Yeah, I think I am."

Ginoza shook his head, but his voice was fond. "A half-assed back-rub isn't going to fix anything."

Kougami grinned. "What about a real one?"

That wrenched a laugh from his friend. "I think I'm okay, thanks."

Kougami pushed his shoulder, laughed. "Oh, come on now. I give good back-rubs."

"I'm sure you do." Ginoza finally unfolded himself, stretched his long legs out. "But I'm going to have to respectfully decline." He smiled, a little, all the same.

"Fine. No back-rubs. But do you want to go out for a little bit?" Kougami offered. Ginoza was responding. He was laughing, smiling, relaxed. Getting him out couldn't be bad for him. 

Ginoza shrugged. "Where?"

"Anywhere. We could go for a run, or go out to one of those pastry cafes you used to like in school. Or a park, you know, pretend we're out in nature or something." Kougami's smile relaxed, he stretched his arms, focused entirely on Ginoza, on keeping that relaxed expression, the slight smile. The light in his green eyes.

Ginoza looked over. "What would you like to do?"

"Get you out of the apartment for something other than work." Kougami shrugged, smiled.

"Do you remember that huge park we went to once a few years ago, for New Year's?"

"The one with the temple, yeah."

"Do you think we could go there again?"

Kougami grinned, nodded. "I think we definitely can." He stood, held his hand out to Ginoza. He didn't expect his friend to take the offer, and so there was a moment of shock when Ginoza's long fingers wrapped around his hand and pulled himself to his feet. Kougami's smile softened, and he managed to make eye contact a brief moment over the rim of those damnable glasses. He smiled, removed his hand, brushed it off on his jeans. "We should go, though. It's a bit of a trip."

Ginoza nodded. "We'll have to take the car."

"We will. But if I can force it into manual drive, it might be nice."

Ginoza rolled his eyes. "Manual drive?"

"Yeah. Why not?"

"We have self-driving cars for a reason."

"And I like driving." Kougami countered, pulling on an old, worn pair of boots.

"Fine. Fine. You can drive." Ginoza put on his own old running shoes, beaten and battered. He reached for the same tailored trenchcoat he wore to work, but Kougami held out a thicker, hooded green coat instead, one of his own.

"Raining too hard to not wear a hood." He smiled, glad the bit of care was accepted when Ginoza pulled on the jacket. He looked his age dressed down, soft and young and bright and beautiful and there was that word again, lighting up his head, unbidden and harsh and unavoidable. And when they left the apartment, Ginoza pushed his hair back to pull on the plush lined hood of his jacket, the rain pouring down on his bare hands, splashing his skinny shoulders. He all but ran to the car, closing himself inside. Kougami joined him, grinning and damp with rainwater. "You sure you want to spend the afternoon outside?"

"If we can grab warm drinks as well." Ginoza smiled, pulled his hood back.

"Yeah, I think we can manage that." Kougami pulled the car away from the sidewalk where he had parked, reaching for his cigarettes.

"You know I hate when you smoke in the car."

"You want one?" Kougami smiled, he knew if it was really bothering Ginoza, then he wouldn't smoke. But Ginoza got in moods where he would indulge, and this was one of them. He took the pack from Kougami's hand, lit both their cigarettes. Kougami didn't comment. He found a radio station, the only ones the car got were Sybil approved, but the music was still real enough. Ginoza curled into the seat, hunched around himself, he had no right to look that good smoking. The embers of the cigarette lit the gold flakes in his green eyes, his thin fingers wrapped around the cigarette. Kougami found himself silently slipping the car into auto drive so he could watch.

Kougami knew he shouldn't feel what he did when he looked at Ginoza. He wasn't even sure his partner had a sex drive, much less was into dirty rugged chainsmoking fuck-ups like Kougami Shinya. Even if he could make Ginoza laugh, make him relax. Remembered what he was like before the job and tried to bring that back when they had a chance. And Kougami knew he would do anything just to be allowed to have these little moments. A trip on a day off. A smile. The way the light reflecting off rain drops splattered on the car windows danced on his pale skin. The fact that he knew there were mornings when Ginoza would wake up humming old rock and roll songs to himself and he thought no one heard, the same songs came back when he was deep in thought. Kougami thought he must have gotten the songs from Masaoka when he was young. That sort of music was hard to come by these days. Unregistered music, from back before Sybil. They had gone through all the music files they could, Kougami had heard, and approved some of them. Classical music, mostly, some ineffectual bubbly pop stuff had slipped through. Kougami had never given it much thought, music hadn't been important to him. But he liked those mornings when he could lie with his door cracked open and hear a few words slip through while Ginoza made coffee, hummed quietly. He'd never ask, so he would never know what songs he sang when his mind was at peace for those brief moments. 

They were on the outskirts of the city, where little bits of what used to be Japan remained. They had come here once, with their graduating class, to pray for luck in their exams on a New Year's Eve. Kougami had never much bought into luck, but he liked the park, the old temple, the archaic notion that something so simple as ringing a bell would make everything okay. Ginoza hadn't believed in it at all. He'd spent most the night following Kougami, explaining how useless it all was and stealing sips off the flask of whiskey Kougami had brought with him. By the time midnight had rolled around they had both been pleasantly tipsy enough to ring the ancient bell and ask for luck. He wondered if it had worked. Ginoza had gotten the job he had always wanted. And Kougami had gotten to stay with his friend. That was all he'd dared to ask for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone was curious, the book Kougami is reading is Haruki Murakami's Norwegian Wood. Good book. Probably one of his more accessible works.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took away the chapter count because this is getting out of my control. It's going to be long. Very long. So thank you all for the support and love I have gotten already. Three bookmarks now! I love you all.

_nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals_  
_the power of your intense fragility:whose texture_  
_compels me with the colour of its countries,_  
_rendering death and forever with each breathing_  
\- e. e. cummings, somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond

Kougami bought them warm milk tea in small paper cups, from a tiny cafe that looked like it had been standing long before Sybil, manned by a single old woman who steamed the milk herself, added dark, sweetened black tea and handed them to Kougami with a small, wrinkled smile. Ginoza pulled his hood up again, cradled the cup in both hands and the steam fogged his glasses. It was proof of how useless they were that he didn't seem to notice. They walked in silence, side by side, into the old wooded area that the city had classified as a park. Rain dropped heavy from the leaves on the trees, puddling around their feet where they walked along old, well worn paths. A waste bin beside a bench almost taken over by foliage allowed them to do away with empty cups and Kougami almost managed not to notice how close their hands fell to each other. He almost managed not to notice Ginoza looking down at their hands.

They walked closer after that, in comfortable silence, and the rain dripped off the fake fur that lined the hood of Ginoza's jacket. Drops of it had found their way to the lens of his glasses, but he smiled, soft, when they reached the temple hidden away in the park. It was mostly untended, a couple drones trying to monitor for trouble, an older man he assumed must have run the place before Sybil, same as the woman at the cafe. This part of town was oddly untouched by progress. Kougami found it almost comforting. There were still parts of the world where a number and a color generated out of your thought process by a computer didn't define you. The only time the old man paid any attention to them was when he told Kougami not to smoke. They sat on a bench under enough tree cover to protect them from the rain, and Kougami still let Ginoza have the drier side. It was only fair.

Ginoza sat close enough that Kougami could feel the damp fabric of his coat when it brushed against his shoulder, hands shoved deep into the pockets. He shuffled around, looked at what was in his hand, the content of Kougami's coat pockets. A piece of gum, a couple cigarettes, a receipt for a six pack of beer. There was the smallest smile on Ginoza's face, but he didn't look at Kougami. That tiny smile was enough. Ginoza was going to be okay. Or he could be. Maybe, with more days like this, with more rain, more peace, he could be okay.

Kougami swung his arm around Ginoza's shoulder, a friendly enough gesture, and he could feel the slight shiver of the cold from the thin man's body. He squeezed his arm where Kougami's hand had landed, grinned with Ginoza looked at him, utterly confused.

"You look happy." Kougami smiled, crooked and lazy.

"Oh. I suppose I am. Freezing cold, mind, but happy." Ginoza smiled, soft, but he could not meet Kougami's eyes.

Kougami's shoulders shook, a silent laugh. "Yeah. Me too. We might want to head back soon."

Ginoza shook his head no. "Let's stay out here, just a little while longer."

"What, so you can catch a cold and then insist on going into work anyway?"

Ginoza snorted a soft laugh. "Maybe."

"Yeah, well, okay." Kougami smiled. "Just because it is nice out here. Hardly any people, no automatic advertising, even the drones are quiet."

Ginoza nodded, and Kougami realized he had sunk a little, comfortably, against his side. Kougami's arm was still wrapped around Ginoza's shoulder, and they were now supporting each other, side pressed to side. Ginoza's hands, folded in his lap, fidgeted, long fingers twisting in thought. Kougami let his head fall, just slightly, so they were closer, so he could feel what slight warmth was still hidden away in his partner's jacket. In their closeness, Kougami thought he could feel the contentedness, the peace that was between them. And something he wasn't at all ready to define, something that made him think of Ginoza as beautiful, as someone he wanted to protect. Maybe this had been building for weeks. Maybe years. Maybe since the first time he had seen that small, skinny, quiet little thing in the lecture hall. He had been the top of the class, pushed Kougami down to second place, and he hadn't known whether to be impressed or annoyed that someone so quiet, withdrawn and tiny could be quite as brilliant and bright as Ginoza Nobuchika.

Kougami had saved him, once from some school encouraged bullying campaign, kids going after Ginoza because of his father's status as a latent criminal. Kougami just barely escaped latent criminal status himself, back then, stealing whiskey when he could, smoking, fighting those idiots who went after everyone with a friend or family member who had been secreted away to a therapeutic rehab facility. He'd been suspended twice, but his hue never got dark enough to be punished. Except for the whiskey theft, Kougami had always been pretty sure he was doing the right thing. And the whiskey was perfectly justified. After all, Ginoza always smiled at him when he offered him the flask after a fight. The second Ginoza confided in him that he wanted to join the PSB, that became Kougami's goal as well. After all, no matter how tall Ginoza got, and he did have a growth spurt, he was still rail thin and an easy target. Less shy, maybe, but it had been replaced with a quiet anger. In their last year, Ginoza wanted to fight back. And Kougami wanted to fight by his side. So he did.

Kougami figured he should have been more surprised when he got an A ranking for the Ministry of Welfare. It wasn't exactly something he had considered before. He had always just assumed he would end up with some blue collar job in construction or something. A job that didn't mean much, but utilized his strength. He was too angry for the Public Safety Bureau, and too volatile for a job where people's lives were on the line. But there was his A ranking, right alongside Ginoza's. There was his chance to stay with his only friend. And they were good at their jobs, moving up from beat work in Division four to the highest Ministry of Welfare ranking, the toughest crimes, in Division one in less than a year.

Ginoza was smart, he knew how to utilize the resources offered to them. He might not be the best detective on their team, but he knew who was, and how to make what they had work. And Kougami, the longer he was there, became a detective. He wasn't afraid to learn from the people who had been there longer, Masaoka especially. The old man had been a detective before they had Sybil to give them the answers. As a team, they had become unstoppable.

And slowly, it was killing Ginoza. The long hours, the nature of Division one cases. They didn't get the easy ones. More often than not, they were called in when it had already gone wrong, when there wasn't anyone left to be saved. Kougami knew it wasn't easy for him. And maybe there wasn't enough he could do to make it better.

The rain showed no signs of letting up, and it slowly coated their coats, Kougami's hair and Ginoza's hood. The drones continued a patrol over the old temple, but the old man had gone inside. Kougami's thumb brushed against Ginoza's arm gently, and he didn't even realize he had been doing it until Ginoza began to stand. Kougami's hand brushed down Ginoza's arm with the movement, until their hands brushed together for a tiny moment when Kougami looked up at him.

"Ready to go?" He asked, pulling his hand away after a moment.

Ginoza nodded, pulling the oversized coat closer around himself. "I think so."

Kougami stood up, held his hand out with a crooked smile. He didn't think Ginoza would take it, but he offered all the same, something had happened today between them, a closeness in their relationship that he wanted to coax to it's odd, inevitable end. And this was it. Either what they had would implode now, or it would become something new. Once he held his hand out, there really was no way to go back. And there it was this offer, not unlike a surrender, Kougami's hand held out to his partner.

Ginoza took it. His hand was cold, slipped small into Kougami's, like resignation. He stepped closer, met Kougami's eyes a brief moment. He didn't say anything, but nor did he remove his hand when they began to walk back down the hill. His hand simply rested, curled slightly around Kougami's, their arms brushed when they found the narrow path through the wooded park. Kougami squeezed his hand, gently, there were no words right for the moment. The simple fact that Ginoza was allowing Kougami to hold his hand meant everything. He couldn't ask about it, not yet. Kougami wasn't sure he wanted to know what it meant.

They arrived back at the car soaking wet, their hands still closed around each other's. There was a moment, short, nerve wracking, when they stopped in front of the car, and Ginoza let go of his hand, watching Kougami, as if he expected words. Words still weren't coming. So Kougami did the only thing that came to mind. He reached out, under Ginoza's hood, and ruffled his hair, smiled. His hair was vaguely damp, despite the hood, and his bangs fell against his glasses with a wet slap. Kougami couldn't stop himself from laughing. And Ginoza smiled, though he lowered his head, didn't meet Kougami's eyes. Instead, he lurched forward, wrapped his arms, sleeves heavy and wet with rainwater, around Kougami tight, hugged him, buried his face against his shoulder. Kougami startled, stood stock still a long moment before he held his friend in return, felt how skinny he was even with the layers of clothing. His hands folded around Ginoza's waist, breathed him in deep, the old cigarettes and milk tea, rainwater and trees. He pressed his nose against Ginoza's jawline, his lips brushed against his pale skin, breathed in. 

He wasn't sure who kissed who, but there it was, lips brushed against lips, chaste, closed mouths, their arms around each other, and it was over as soon as it had begun. Ginoza took the driver's seat, and Kougami's cigarettes, set the car to take them home and lit one, threw the pack at Kougami. It bounced off his chest, fell into his lap, and Kougami just looked at it, then at Ginoza, for a long moment as the car began it's way back into the main hub of the city. Ginoza was turned away from him, paying attention to the road in case he needed to pull the car back into manual drive. Accidents were more likely in rain like this, still not common, but Kougami guessed Ginoza was using it as an excuse to look at anything but his partner, his friend, who had just kissed him. Or who he had just kissed. Or something. Ginoza wouldn't even look at him.

"Gino?" He wasn't sure if he was expecting an answer. All the same, he didn't get one. "Gino I'm sorry."

Still, he was only met with silence. Ginoza didn't look over at him, wrapped his arms around himself, still soaking wet from their walk in the rain.

Kougami reached over, touched Ginoza's knee, less than surprised when his hand was swatted away. But he pressed on, still, until Ginoza allowed him a small touch. "I really am sorry. I don't know what happened there."

"I didn't mean to." Ginoza whispered. "Kou, I didn't mean to."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have gotten so much love on this fic. And it makes me smile, every time. I got the loveliest compliments on the last chapter. This one doesn't move a lot, but I think there's some good in it. If I'm doing something right, or wrong, or there's something you'd like me to see or address as this fic goes on, I'd love to hear about it. Or if you just want to talk about an underrepresented pairing in an underrepresented anime, tell me! I love it and I want to talk more about it.

_Here is my hand, my heart, my throat, my wrist. Here are the illuminated cities at the center of me, and here is the center of me, which is a lake, which is a well that we can drink from, but I can't go through with it. I just don't want to die anymore._  
\- Richard Siken, Saying Your Names

"Didn't mean to?" Kougami asked.

Ginoza didn't move again until they reached the apartment block where they were living. He made sure the car was secure in the underground parking lot and went straight up to the apartment, never looked back to make sure Kougami was following. But he was. Even standing in the elevator he watched his friend, watched the wreck of thought and worry that was Ginoza's face. His hands itched to touch, to comfort, to do anything other than follow blindly and hope for an explanation. But Ginoza tossed the wet coat over the sofa and shut himself in his room, without a word. Without even a glance back.

Kougami closed the front door, latched it, and sunk down, into the puddle of rainwater that had gathered in the doorway, his soaked through clothes only adding to the damp. He curled in on himself, arms hooked under his knees, forehead rested against the perch the position made. The puddle spread around him on the linoleum like eventually it would take him with it and he would melt into nothing to be swept away the next time Ginoza remembered to set the apartment system (who Kougami affectionately called Hal after an old movie) to clean while he was at work. And Kougami would be swept out into the streets, further and further until he hit a river and was mixed into the pesticides and nutrition for hyperoats production, or until he reached the ocean.

Kougami thought he would infinitely prefer the ocean. He would be coaxed out, mixed into the heavy grey waves, farther and farther until there was no hint of Japan left. No crime coefficients, no hue checks, no drones and no PSB and no doors slammed on fleeting kisses. No rainy shrines and no damnable unnecessary glasses and no sleepless nights. No long, skinny fingers curled around his blunt hand. Just the sun and the waves and whatever still lay beyond Japan's borders. He didn't believe what the news stations told him, he didn't think the outside world was as chaotic and destroyed as they claimed.

If Kougami had learned anything growing up it was that humanity survived. Both Kougami's parents had been labeled latent criminals when he was seven. And, to be fair, they were criminals, smuggling contraband into Japan after the country decided to reinstate an isolationist policy. And it wasn't out of some misguided sense of right and wrong. They were just greedy, and not all that fond of small, sullen Kougami Shinya. He hadn't mourned for them when they were taken away. Hadn't heard from them in sixteen years. But still, he made it. He moved on. Humans were good at that.

There was movement in the tiny hallway that separated the bedrooms from the rest of the small apartment. Ginoza had changed into dry pajamas, soft and warm, flannel pants and a very old hooded sweatshirt with the logo of a now closed university. His skinny arms were wrapped around himself, dwarfed in the oversized shirt. Kougami didn't need to ask where it came from. And he didn't want to, the wound might be too painful. Neither of them moved, and, for a moment, Kougami wondered how much damage had been done already. He thought about standing up, about crossing the small apartment and taking Ginoza into his arms again, holding him close enough that their hearts beat frantic against each other. He thought about proper kisses, how Ginoza's hair would feel running through his fingers, whether he would close his eyes. About how his glasses would get dislodged if they kissed long enough, simply from the way their faces moved against each other. He wondered where Ginoza's hands would go. Would he want to hold Kougami? Would he want to skim his hands along his face, into his wild, messy hair? Would he cradle his hips in those long fingers, digging deeper as the kiss intensified, as they slowly learned each other by touch, by taste?

But Kougami didn't move. He smiled, a little crooked, and a little tense, but he made no move to stand. "Hey."

"You should change out of those wet clothes before you make yourself sick." Ginoza muttered, going to the kitchen to set up the system for dinner and warm beverages.

Slowly, Kougami unfolded himself, stood, stretched. He didn't approach Ginoza, he didn't know where they were, as friends, or whatever it was they had become. Kougami leaned on the small island counter that separated the kitchen from the living room, he kept watching Ginoza as if there were answers in their movements. There were no answers to be found in day to day movements, in going through the motions of gathering dinner, hot curry, and warm tea to combat the chill that was setting in. It was very possible the rain would turn to snow in the next day or two. Kougami watched as Ginoza took his dinner, curled up once again on the sofa and projected a news story on the storm coming through onto the wall. The holo projection was semi 3D, showing the rain, probable snow, explained by a girl who seemed too perfect, to perky, to be human. Ginoza probably wasn't overly interested in it, but he had explained once to Kougami that he liked the noise. He liked to hear the world moving around him. Kougami supposed he understood that.

Ginoza picked at his food, and Kougami left, shut himself in his bedroom to change out of his soaking wet clothes. And to smoke. It annoyed Ginoza when he smoked when someone was eating. He yanked off his shirt, threw it at the laundry chute. It missed and splattered on the carpet with a thump. His pants followed suit, and he pulled on a faded pair of sweats and a fitted dark t-shirt, lit another cigarette. Ginoza had kissed him. Or maybe he had kissed Ginoza, he wasn't sure, but it had been so good, so filled with longing. It had been building, perhaps for years. Ultimately, he wasn't sure it mattered who had started it. But it needed to be confronted, before they both broke.

Instead, he sat there, alone, in his room for a long while, going through the last of his pack of cigarettes and trying to avoid going back out, confronting Ginoza with all those things he wasn't allowed to say. He knew better than to talk about that kiss. Even if he wanted to repeat it, again and again until there was nothing left in his mind but the two of them, their hands and their lips and their cigarette stained breath. Ginoza would taste like curry and sweet, dark tea and that bone deep exhaustion he carried around him and Kougami would kiss him and kiss him until that exhaustion faded away. He would take apart his best friend, the man he wanted so badly, and put him back together again and again until he got it right. Until he could no longer taste exhaustion in his kisses. Until his shoulders relaxed and his smiles came easy and his love wasn't locked away behind tailored suits and glasses he didn't even need.

He stayed in his room, shut away, listening to the rainstorm grow stronger until he was out of cigarettes and his stomach growled to tell him it was far past time for dinner. Ginoza was still sitting in the dark living room, the projection moved on from weather alerts to an old film, something that had slipped through Sybil's censorship, black and white and dreamlike. Not at all unlike the skinny man curled up on the sofa, a small glass of honey colored liquor in one hand, his face tense. Kougami set the kitchen system to prepare his dinner, found the bottle of amber whiskey and poured himself a glass, sat beside Ginoza.

"Gino," he began, finally seeing his friend's eyes, lit by the movie on the wall. He had to force himself to keep talking, despite the forced calm, the storm in Ginoza's expression. "I want to talk about it."

"What's there to say? I made a mistake. I'm sorry."

Kougami recoiled. "What? No. No, Gino, I liked it."

"You don't have to spare my feelings, Kougami."

"I'm not trying to."

"Then what exactly are you trying to do?"

"Trying to figure out why you're so upset over something we both wanted."

Ginoza looked at him, utterly baffled. "What?"

"I mean, you wanted to kiss me, right?" Kougami reached over, brushed his hand against Ginoza's jaw. "Because I can't figure out right now how long I've wanted to kiss you."

Ginoza didn't respond. He didn't look at Kougami. The amber liquid in his glass shook with his hands and the set of his jaw tightened, shivering slightly when Kougami touched him. But he also didn't move away. He might have moved closer to the touch, but it was a minute movement, too small to mean anything. Or maybe it meant everything. Kougami couldn't tell. So he moved his hand, gently, to turn Ginoza's jaw, to look at him. And he leaned forward and kissed Ginoza again.

Ginoza remained stock still only a moment, unsure, his mouth opened in a slight gasp. Kougami kissed him, soft, gentle, trying to coax him into this, what he was sure they both wanted. And there was a glimpse of pure joy when Ginoza began to kiss back, clumsily, unsure. Thinking back on it, Kougami didn't think Ginoza had ever kissed anyone before. Or been kissed. When they had met, he had been tiny, and shy, and bullied. And as he grew up, he was too driven to consider dating, too focused on his job to bother with women, or men, as it were. Kougami had gone out at night. He had clumsily kissed both men and women, addled with drink and laughing too hard to take it seriously. Or desperate to feel something outside of himself. Ginoza wasn't outside him. He felt like a part of Kougami, he fit in his arms and his kisses tasted like home, warm and bitter and sweet.

Kougami pulled away, met Ginoza's eyes. "Is that okay?"

Ginoza nodded, a small flush to his pale features. He reached out, brushed his hand against Kougami's cheek, drew him into another brief kiss. He watched Kougami all the while, the light from the projected film glinted off his eyes, sparked a bit of gold in the hazel green. Kougami was fairly sure he could stare at those eyes for a few days, at least. Maybe the rest of his life. Maybe he could die happy, just sitting on the sofa, kissing Ginoza and staring into his eyes and listening to the rain.

"Kou?" Ginoza's voice was small, soft, the same tone he had taken when they were children, broken, the smallest bit scared.

"Yeah?" Kougami brushed a hand through his hair, smiled. It was just as soft, as rich and thick as he always thought it would be.

"This isn't right." Ginoza pulled away, looked anywhere but at Kougami.

"What do you mean?"

"Us, this. It's all wrong."

"No, Gino, it's not." Kougami coaxed, gentle. "This is the most right I've felt in months."

"We- I shouldn't." Ginoza didn't move away, even still, conflict written huge across his expressive face.

"Why? Gino talk to me." Kougami brushed his hands over Ginoza's arms, took his hands. "Please."

Ginoza took his hands, looked down at them. "I want this. You know that. You know me better than I know me sometimes Kou. But it isn't right. It compromises Division one by rerouting our priorities, any romantic strife could damage our hues, any myriad number of things could go wrong. There's too much at stake, for both of us, if we were to become involved like this." He spoke too fast, squeezing Kougami's hands as he did.

"Do you really think that?"

"I don't know!" Ginoza snapped. He crumpled, let Kougami support him. "I don't know."

Kougami rubbed his back, trying to soothe him. Ginoza kept so tightly controlled through their work, it hurt to see him give up the way he did. "Gino. Nobuchika. I'm not going to make you go through with this, I promise. But I don't think we'd destroy each other. We might make each other a bit better." He tilted Ginoza's jaw up, hands soft, to meet his eyes. "I would never knowingly hurt you."

"Do you have any idea how badly I want to believe you?" Ginoza's head moved against Kougami's hand.

"You can." Kougami leaned close, seeking another kiss. And it was given, hesitant and soft, chaste, but it was given. Kougami pulled him close, held on to his friend as close as he could. "Will you let me prove I can do this?"

Ginoza hesitated. "You used my given name."

"I, I guess so." Kougami smiled. "Do you mind?" Ginoza was odd, about propriety of names, and especially for his first name. He had told Kougami once, years ago, the only person who called him that was his mother. And she was long dead. Kougami had gone with him to his funeral. He was fourteen, and Kougami had known him for a week. Kougami had watched his friend check the door every minute, five minutes, hour. Masaoka had never shown up.

Seconds ticked by like hours before Ginoza managed to speak. "It sounds good, coming from you."

Kougami smiled, kissed him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a bit of a fanfic cliche to open each chapter with a line of music or poetry. It's leftover from 2004 ish when fanfic was new and weird and exciting to the internet (or at least to me, I'm old as balls) and no one knew what to do with it. You can draw a line of my influences and my ideas by looking up what I use to open my chapters. This time I was torn between what I did use, and this line from 'Lua' by Bright Eyes:  
>  _And I'm not sure what the trouble was that started all of this_  
>  _The reasons all have run away but the feeling never did_  
>  _It's not something I would recommend, but it is one way to live_  
>  _Cause what is simple in the moonlight, by the morning never is_


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did I do to deserve all this kindness? I have gotten kind comments and kudos from some of my favorite writers in this fandom. And there are some great writers in this fandom. Sorry this is a few days late, I went on a mini vacation and didn't get to do any writing. I hope this satisfies. I think it's worth it. And we're getting pretty close to the reason this fic is rated E. I promise you that. Or warn. Not sure which.

_There's bound to be a ghost at the back of your closet_  
_No matter where you live_  
_There'll always be a few things, maybe several things_  
_That you're going to find really difficult to forgive_  
\- The Mountain Goats, Up the Wolves

Kougami didn't remember when they had fallen asleep. He remembered getting the liquor bottle, his dinner, which was on the floor half eaten. The bottle was empty, their cups stacked one on top of the other. Kougami was on the outside of the couch, curled around Ginoza, holding him protectively between the back of the couch and Kougami's arms. Ginoza was deep asleep, his hair messy, pale face calm. Kougami smiled, soft. He had kissed Ginoza. He had been kissed back. They had drank, and laughed, and curled up together and fallen asleep like that, tangled up in each other and he had never seen his friend, his partner, so relaxed as he was with the early morning sun peeking through. He thought about getting up, making coffee and breakfast, they had to be in the PSB by noon, but they had time for a late morning. More kissing, if he had his way. Thought about it, then realized that Ginoza had curled both hands into Kougami's shirt and didn't seem to have any intention of letting go. Kougami smiled, brushed his hand through that thick, soft hair. He pressed his lips to Ginoza's forehead, nudged him gently in an attempt to wake him.

He wanted to wake Ginoza every morning from then on, if only to see the almost childish expression he got, confused a moment until he realized where he was, the soft smile when he leaned into Kougami's chest.

"Go make coffee." Ginoza insisted, reaching to the end table for his glasses.

Kougami laughed. "Yes, yes, good morning to you too Nobuchika."

"Please, Shinya, would you go make coffee?" Ginoza teased, sitting up fully.

Kougami leaned forward, kissed him, chaste and gentle. "Fine. Wash up. I already have two messages from the PSB and I don't want to read them yet."

Ginoza rolled his eyes, checking his wristwatch communicator. "They located a new Enforcer candidate. Want us to check her out."

"Good. I thought it was going to be a lot worse. Make us come in early or something."

"Yes, what might happen if you actually have to work?" Ginoza quipped, getting up to get ready. It was a far cry from the irritation of last night, he was comfortable teasing Kougami, being teased, a little, himself. Kougami let himself stare a long moment after Ginoza as he walked to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Nothing had really been fixed. Sure, Ginoza had eaten a couple meals, he had slept the night through, but he was going right back to the PSB after they'd had coffee and some breakfast. He would be sitting in the office, working through the awful cases, dealing with the bureaucracy that he was so much better at than Kougami. There was a small part of Kougami that wondered what would happen if Ginoza ever realized quite how smart he really was. His partner might not be as much of a detective as Masaoka, or even Kougami himself, but Ginoza knew where he stood. He could direct his team, had coerced the Ministry of Welfare into promotions, into more allocated resources. He knew how to manage his team and how to present Division one to the Chief and to the public. Kougami was fairly sure if Ginoza realized quite how good he was, he would surpass Kougami, leave him behind. And Kougami would let him. Because Ginoza Nobuchika deserved the world. 

Kougami had the apartment computer system make them breakfast, and made the coffee himself, some of the real stuff left over from a gift basket Professor Saiga had sent him when he was accepted into the PSB. They were running out, and it wasn't likely he was going to get more anytime soon, but he had spent the night on the sofa holding Ginoza Nobuchika to him, and he wanted to commemorate the event.

He let the coffee maker run and checked the messages they had gotten before either of them were awake. A new recruit. Or, rather, someone the MWPSB wanted them to recruit. Kunizuka Yayoi, young, pretty, used to be a guitarist in a registered punk rock band. Kougami could imagine himself getting along well with her. He wanted to get along better with all his Enforcers. Despite Ginoza growling about hunting dogs when they were out on assignment, Kougami was pretty sure they were human. After all, one of them had fathered the man he was falling further and further in love with.

Ginoza emerged again from the bathroom, buttoning the cuffs on his shirt. He was already perfectly pressed, his hair smoothed, glasses perfect, tie straight. Kougami had to ruin it. He grabbed his black tie, tugged it so Ginoza fell forward with a rather undignified sound. Kougami wrapped his arms around Ginoza, held him close, buried his face against Ginoza's shower damp hair. He pressed a kiss to Ginoza's cheek, tightened his embrace once more. "I used the good coffee. Help yourself, I'm going to wash up for work."

Ginoza stopped him with one hand, unsure. He leaned close, kissed Kougami, a fleeting movement, barely there. But it was confirmation that they were still clear, that last night hadn't been a mistake.

They took Sasayama with them to the rehabilitation facility to meet Kunizuka Yayoi. Masaoka stayed back, gathering information, there had been a bombing last night and Division two had handled it, in theory, but not enough. The surviving victims had all been treated, but no one had been caught. Sasayama was still grumbling about it on the drive, he and Kougami exchanging cigarettes. He had to stop himself from reaching over and playing with Ginoza's hair, or taking his hand, or anything that might be seen for what it actually meant. Instead, he made small talk with Sasayama, finding out who his enforcer was besides the smiling man who pilfered his cigarettes. Turned out he wasn't half bad. A little crass, violent, as they had seen on their cases, but he was friendly, easy to laugh. Even Ginoza was laughing with them, a little, by the time the drive was over. But it was a begrudging laugh, accompanied by an order not to smoke in the car. And this time it was meant. Sasayama muttered a cruel name under his breath and barked out a laugh. Ginoza just rolled his eyes and ordered him to mind the car, especially for any communication, while they talked to Kunizuka. After all, they'd had no word on the bombing subjects.

"Yeah, sure, fine." Sasayama grinned, stepping out of the car to light another cigarette. "Hey let me know if the new girl is hot, right?"

Ginoza bit back a retort, but Kougami stepped in. "You'll find out for yourself, once we get her signed on, right, Inspector Ginoza?"

"Right. Something like that." Ginoza kept walking, his shoulders set, the heels of his dress shoes made a sharp noise on the pavement.

Kougami sighed, heavily, and chased after him. "Hey. Cut Sasayama some slack, okay? Not like he gets out much."

"Don't humanize the enforcers, Kougami."

"They are human." Kougami argued, taking a second to show the drone at the door his identification. "I don't understand treating them any other way."

"They're resources, nothing more."

"Some good you're going to be recruiting the new girl." Kougami scoffed, stepping off the elevator to the small visiting room. Across the glass divider, the girl sat, small and wide eyed and angry and resigned. She reminded him of Ginoza, in the set of their shoulders, small forms hiding defiant rage.

Kougami rested his hand on Ginoza's shoulder, stopped him from approaching the two stark chairs that waited for them underneath the room's only light. "Hey. Let me talk to her, okay?"

"Fine." Ginoza sighed, sinking slightly under the touch.

Kougami smiled, he hoped reassuringly, and went to the chair, sat and watched Kunizuka Yayoi. She stared him down, harsh, calculating, and somehow defeated.

"Hi." Kougami offered, smiled.

"What do you want?" She asked, cold.

"I want to talk about getting you out of here."

"Yeah, right." She scoffed, leaned back in her chair. "I'm never getting out of here."

"You could, though." Kougami relaxed, gave her what he was pretty sure was a charming grin. 

Kunizuka didn't seem impressed. "They said I showed aptitude for the PSB. That's what you're here for, isn't it? Put me in a different set of chains?"

"It's not like that."

"Then what is it? You want me to be a trained hunting dog in exchange for the occasional supervised murderous field trip."

Kougami watched Ginoza react visibly, flinching, annoyed, but he, for once, was grateful for the silence.

"You'd have your own apartment, freedom to do what you want when you're not working, a much more lax system for orders. We could get you your guitar back. It's not so bad." Kougami offered.

"Shove it up your ass." Kunizuka spat. "I'm not going."

"Then where are you going to go?"

"I'll get better. Get back with the band."

"I wish you the best of luck, then. But consider our offer, will you?"

"I won't." She stood up. "Don't come back."

Kougami smiled, shrugged. "Have a good rest of your day." He'd come back, he would have to. Once Sybil decided she wanted someone in the system, there wasn't really an option to turn them down. Sure, it was phrased as a question, a generous offer, but the well understood implication was that you didn't turn Sybil down for anything. Kunizuka Yayoi wasn't the first person he'd heard who thought they would be the exception to the rule. He always had this dim hope that they would manage. Kougami knew what kind of life an Enforcer lead. And they didn't exactly have a decent survival rate, on top of everything else. Especially not Division one enforcers. He'd only lost one, but he had no desire to repeat that. Ginoza stood, nodded to Kougami and left.

Kougami followed him, waiting for the elevator doors to close. 

"You're just going to let her go?" Ginoza asked, wiping his glasses clean.

"We'll be back." Kougami muttered, almost bitter. "You know this as well as I do."

"Yeah. We will." Ginoza sighed, turned to him. "I'm sorry, Kou. For today."

"Sorry?"

"I acted out of line. I was cruel to you." Ginoza sighed.

Kougami leaned in, kissed his cheek. "It's fine. It's going to happen. We'll work it out. And we'll get Kunizuka on our team. It's going to be fine, Gino." The elevator opened, and Kougami returned to the car. He wasn't sure he had meant any of his own words.

Sasayama was still smoking, leaning against the car, the PSB notifications still playing. It didn't look like he had moved even once, and it didn't sound like progress had been made. He had been smoking Kougami's cigarettes. Of course he had. Still, he grinned when he saw them approach, put the cigarette out.

"Girl's not with you."

"Yeah, she turned us down." Kougami sighed.

"How come?"

"She said it was like going from one prison to another." Kougami opened the passenger side door, letting Ginoza drive again. "Do you feel imprisoned?"

"I don't know. I mean, yeah, of course I do. I need to ask permission for cigarettes and I can't leave without a babysitter. Everything I read, or watch, or listen to has to be approved. It's pretty much a prison. But I'm sure I would get treated worse anywhere else. So it's pretty much at the top tier of prisons I could be subjected to, all things considered." Sasayama leaned back in his chair.

Kougami shrugged. "We should tell her that."

"Yes, confirm her belief that it's going from one cage to another." Ginoza muttered. "That's a fantastic plan."

"Who knows. Might make her feel better to know that there's some freedom available for latent criminals."

"She seemed to think she could recover."

"Sybil wouldn't have recommended her if she could." Kougami resisted the urge, once again, to reach out, to touch Ginoza's hand, his fists were clenching white at the knuckles.

"Does she know that?"

This wasn't about Kunizuka. Not anymore. Not the way Ginoza was reacting, the way he shook, the way his voice, so uncertain, carried so much anger. This was a small child who still missed his father. Barely a man, still so young, barely holding together and replacing emptiness with anger. This was about loss. About finding out what his father had suffered.

"Probably not." Kougami admitted. "Makes them more likely to run away if there's no hope they'll reintegrate into society."

Ginoza nodded, his hands relaxed a little.

"Gino, why don't we stop and grab some lunch? We were allotted a bit more time than Kunizuka was actually willing to talk to us. It'll be fine."

"We should get back to the office." Ginoza dismissed.

"We've got the time."

"Kougami, we're going back." And gone was Nobuchika, small and alone, replaced by Inspector Ginoza, harsh, calculating, putting on a mask of the confidence he barely held about himself. He plugged in the address of the PSB and grabbed Kougami's cigarettes, the case empty, he clutched it all the same. Kougami wished he knew what that meant.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's going on here? I've gotten so much love and affection on this fic and it's honestly mind- blowing. I love each and every single goddamned one of you. Even if all you did was leave kudos. Even if you just read it, and left nothing, I still love you. And, for the record, I need new friends in this fandom because it's taking over my life. inconvenientplaces on tumblr if you do that sort of thing. I haven't posted about this fic, yet, but that's because I don't have many followers in the Psycho Pass fandom. That might change. And I'd be more than happy to answer questions there or here, or just chat, or anything.

_Maybe your work will love you_  
_When I'm just not there to hold you_  
_Maybe your pride can be your companion_  
_But I just won't be there to stand for it_  
\- The Gaslight Anthem, Here Comes my Man

The rest of the drive was made in silence, thick and tangible, that continued through the PSB hallways and to the workroom. Faint music that had been coming from Masaoka's computer shut off as soon as they approached, only adding to the sense that this was wrong, that one of them had done wrong and it wasn't getting fixed anytime soon. Maybe both of them had done wrong. Maybe it was too much. They weren't meant for happiness, people in this line of work never were. Ginoza was too far gone down whatever dark road he had chosen. Kougami was too rough around the edges. It would never work. And still, Kougami had pushed Ginoza into it. And he would keep pushing, that much he knew.

Kougami knew it was irrational. He could see every way this could go wrong. Every way it would go wrong. Every resentment and frustration and late night screaming match they could inflict on one anther. But he looked at Ginoza and all he knew what that he wasn't leaving. No matter how much they would ruin each other. And they would. It was only a matter of time.

"No word yet on the bombing suspects." Masaoka offered instead of a greeting. "No one in treatment is talking. We're trying to get in touch with the performers, they might have seen more."

"Good. So nothing got done." Ginoza dismissed, sinking into his desk chair.

"I wouldn't say nothing. We're ruling out possibilities."

"Useless in the grand scheme of things. We have nothing to go off of tonight. They'll strike again." Ginoza was going over the reports on his own monitor, looking once again over the rim of his glasses.

Kougami leaned closer than was strictly necessary to look at the reports on Ginoza's monitor. "Nothing ended up on the security feeds?"

"No. The perpetrators must have known the layout. Which implies they were there before. I sent a message to Karanamori to pick up security footage from the last week. I'll sort through it for suspicious activity."

"You'll be up for days doing that." Kougami protested.

"I'm on the overnight shift again anyway. It'll give me something to do."

Kougami sighed, heavily. "I'll keep an eye on reports coming in, then. Masaoka, go get those records from Karanamori. Sasayama, check in with Division two, make sure we have all information relevant to the bombings before their inspectors leave for the day." Mostly, he wanted the enforcers out so he could talk to Ginoza freely.

Both enforcers left, and Kougami sat on Ginoza's desk, kicking out his long legs and watching him. "Gino?"

"Hm?"

"Are you okay? With all this, I mean. Are you going to be okay?"

"I'll be fine, Kou." Ginoza dismissed, back to his work.

"I don't want you working yourself to death." Kougami reached out, brushed one hand through Ginoza's hair. "Let me order our dinner. What do you want?"

"Nothing, Kou. I'm not hungry."

"Nonsense. You skipped lunch too. Now, what do you want?"

"Don't bother. You're supposed to be working."

"Yeah. I'm helping my fellow Inspector. How is that not working?"

"Check the afternoon's records and stress levels."

"Fine. Fine." Kougami hesitated, stood up and leaned over Ginoza, took his jaw in one hand and tilted his face. "Gino. Let me help you." He leaned in, kissed him gently. It was small and chaste, Kougami knew better than to ask for anything more of Ginoza when they were working. His thumb smoothed along Ginoza's cheekbone, kissed him once more. "But I'm calling a drone to bring us some food. You can try, can't you?"

"I'll try." Ginoza leaned his head against Kougami's chest, wrapped one arm around him, taking comfort where he could, so long as they were alone in the workroom.

Kougami let him, smoothing his hands through Ginoza's hair. When they finally pulled back, he grabbed a tablet computer, dragged his chair to Ginoza's desk and pressed in the order for their dinner before turning to the stress level reports coming in throughout the city. Everything seemed normal. And when Kougami kicked his legs out, he could feel Ginoza move towards him, let his long legs brush against Kougami's, though they didn't speak of it. They simply worked in silence. Kougami couldn't ask for anything more than this.

Masaoka arrived back first, files of information on a projection tablet that he set in front of Kougami. "This is everything she knows. And a few bits on the new recruit."

"New recruit turned us down pretty hard today."

"Eh, the little missy'll come around." Masaoka sighed, telling the drone that came in with dinner to make him a cup of coffee. "Trust me this place is better than a rehab facility. At least I'm allowed to have a cup of coffee here."

"I guess there's that." Kougami smiled, setting a dinner plate down in front of Ginoza. "And you're useful here, right?"

"I guess so. Useful as an old man like me can be."

"Hey, you're plenty useful. Better detective than the rest of us kids." Kougami laughed, eating his dinner and looking at the stress level spikes from the previous night's explosion. "So what do you make of these bombings then?"

"They went large scale, so they wanted to make a statement. The club hosts registered bands, but the district is known for unregistered shows as well, mostly punk." He gave a tiny look over to Ginoza, but it went unnoticed. "I'm thinking it's in support of the unregistered bands. Might just be to start shit, but I think they have a motive. Even if it's unclear and a bit discordant." Masaoka explained. leaning back and drinking his coffee.

Ginoza was watching him by then. Kougami hated the way Ginoza watched Masaoka, taking him apart, looking for any tiny discrepancy or wrong in what he said, in the way he held himself. The first day Masaoka had arrived in Division one, Ginoza had accused him of insubordination, yelling in front of a crime scene. And Masaoka had stood there, let him. He never fought back when Ginoza was involved. At first, Kougami had hurt for the man, so desperate to be there to protect his son that he would take the cruelty. But in a way, Masaoka was letting Ginoza have his own life. Stepping aside so that Ginoza could lead. Kougami hated it. He hated seeing that they couldn't talk, reading the fury in the set of Ginoza's shoulders, the resignation etched into the lines of Masaoka's face.

Sasayama returned to add to the piles of information gathering on Ginoza's desk, and sat back at his own. He lit a cigarette and propped his feet up on the desk, watching the others. "Anything happening?"

"We were going over yesterday's bombing. Enforcer Masaoka and I think they're going to strike again. Inspector Ginoza brought it up." Kougami offered.

"Makes sense." Sasayama exhaled a cloud of smoke. "I mean, there were no fatalities and they weren't caught. They got away with it once. And if they were trying to kill someone, well, they didn't. So what are we going to do about it?"

"Wait. See what they do, catch them in the act." Kougami offered.

"Increase drone patrols in that district. I already sent out the order." Ginoza stepped in, finally. "If we can preempt an attack we will save the people who would have been affected."

"There were drones out last night too. It was a registered performance. They didn't see anyone out of line."

"That's why I increased patrol. They'll be able to cover more area and possibly find how they're getting into the building."

"We could go out there ourselves." Sasayama spoke up.

"We don't know where they're going to hit." Kougami spoke up, grabbed Sasayama's cigarettes and lit one, handed the pack back.

Sasayama only pretended to look offended. "Then we cover what we can. Find the main clubs and make sure we have someone positioned there."

"We don't know what the main targets would be. There are five different clubs that host registered bands." Ginoza sighed, annoyed.

"We have to go back to Kunizuka." Kougami interjected.

"What?" Ginoza leaned forward, pushed his glasses up. Kougami was mostly sure it was for show.

"She was in a band. She would know that district like the back of her hand. If increasing security turns up nothing tonight. we should go back there tomorrow and consult her on the district and the people."

"That's not an awful idea." Ginoza smiled, a little. "But she seems excessively unwilling to help."

"We'll see how it goes." Kougami's eyes flickered over Ginoza. He wasn't as tense as the work usually made him, under the table his legs were still stretched out towards Kougami. Maybe he was helping.

The workroom lapsed into silence, the vague beat of music coming from a single earbud headphone tucked into Sasayama's ear. Each of them was monitoring ongoing checks coming in from the drones, Ginoza had two monitors set to check just the reports from the bombing areas. He worked quietly, efficiently, this was where Ginoza's skills were. He could work with hard data. Maybe he wasn't as good with people as Kougami, but that was why they worked together. Partners were supposed to bring out the best in each other. Balance out each other's faults.

Kougami's eyes kept wandering over to Ginoza again and again. He was focused, glasses tilted down, hair glancing against his eyes. He had ignored more than half of his dinner, instead calling a drone in with coffee for each of the men working as evening turned to night. They would have to be up until dawn, only had a few hours to rest before it started again. Such were the demands of the PSB. Ginoza was typing in a report, his slender fingers running over the keyboard.

Kougami wondered what they would feel like on his skin.

He wondered if Ginoza would be the one to incite touches, if he would want to slip his hands under the hem of Kougami's shirt. Wondered if Ginoza would grip the fabric tight in those hands when their kisses moved beyond chaste and into something more intense. If Ginoza even wanted that intensity. Even when he let his mind wander to fantasy he was beholden to Ginoza's desires. And he didn't know what the mercurial man wanted.

He could imagine. If Ginoza wanted at all it would be gentle, because he would be so unpracticed, Kougami would have to guide him. Take those slender hands in his and press them to Kougami's skin, show him where to touch, press when Ginoza's touch was too light. He would teach him to kiss with an open mouth and to push one hand into Kougami's hair while the other remained, pressing calloused fingertips into his skin. He would take the tie of Ginoza's perfectly tailored suit and pull, slightly, as if he were pulling him closer. As if they could be closer. He would breathe Ginoza's name, his given name, between their kisses, barely getting out the first syllables before their lips met again, open mouths, the taste of sweet coffee and harsh cigarettes in the space where they joined.

But it was just a fantasy, and one that had to end before he found himself in a very uncomfortable position in the workroom. Kougami shifted, slightly uncomfortable, took a long drink of his coffee to try and calm himself. The steady tick of Ginoza's fingers on the keyboard kept threatening to throw him back into fantasy, thinking about those long fingers, how good they could be. He propped his tablet up so he could still skim the reports, and grabbed the information Masaoka and Sasayama had brought, perhaps with a bit more force than necessary. Anything to get his mind off of those damnable hands. Those brilliant green eyes. The way he huffed, annoyed, when he brushed his bangs out of his eyes.

He slipped his glasses off cleaning them, watched Kougami. "What?"

"Nothing." Kougami shrugged. "No word on a second attack?"

"Not yet."

They wouldn't get word for hours, more orders of coffee, Ginoza went tense again, closed himself off as they sat, waiting, watching the monitors. The explosion came just after midnight, along with alerts and alarms and bright spikes in the stress levels, jolting Kougami from what he was realizing was a light doze despite the coffee coursing through his system. Ginoza was already up, grabbing the blue PSB issued jacket, threw Kougami's at him. "Come on then. Wake up."

"Another explosion?"

"Two." Masaoka offered, already putting in the call for backup drones at the scene to stop people from leaving while they made their way to the site.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is rated E. E, in this context, stands for "explicit," not for "everyone." I'm sorry. This is your fair warning. There is some sexual content in this chapter. It is not presented as a good thing or a bad thing, merely a thing, that happens, between two consenting adults. If that bothers you, I recommend skipping this chapter. Maybe even this fic as a whole.

_And more than biological demands for me love’s like the wind unseen, unknown_  
 _I see the trees are bending where it’s been_  
 _I know that it leaves wreckage where it’s blown_  
 _I really don’t know what I love you means_  
 _I think it means don’t leave me here alone_  
\- Neil Gaiman, Dark Sonnet

Snow had begun to fall, light, sometime while they had been locked in the workroom, and it littered the shoulders of leather jackets and faux fur on angry concert attendants. Ginoza let Kougami calm the crowd while he retrieved data from the drones, Sasayama and Masaoka standing with Kougami to guard. By four in the morning, snow had coated most of the drones, and the crowd had been dispersed. Twenty-eight were in therapy, seven held for questioning by Division two, and the rest sent home to seek warmth. Masaoka and Sasayama had been sent to the PSB with Division two and those held for further questioning, and Kougami and Ginoza were sent home to rest. Kougami was annoyed, to say the least, to have his work taken from him, sent home like some kid whose playtime was over. Ginoza wouldn't let it show, but he was shivering, grateful for the relief behind his cold acceptance of the order. Kougami knew what most of his looks meant by this point. And that relief made him think maybe it was okay to have the investigation taken away, after all, he had someone to take care of. Ginoza would need him as much as the work did.

The PSB car dropped them off at their apartment, and Kougami swung his shoulder around Ginoza, letting the warmth of their bodies mingle despite the cold. There were flakes of snow in Ginoza's dark hair, and Kougami brushed one hand through it as they stepped into the elevator, drew him into a soft kiss. And Ginoza let him, melted against Kougami's arms. Kougami was slightly stronger, but only slightly, he could feel the firm lines of well trained muscles in Ginoza's arms, they had spent long hours in school sparring, Kougami's brute strength versus Ginoza's quick, thoughtful attacks. They were almost evenly matched. So when Kougami pulled him in for another kiss, and Ginoza gripped his arms and kissed back it became a battle for dominance, but Kougami grabbed the back of his legs, and lifted him, walking them to the apartment without breaking the kiss. Ginoza certainly wasn't complaining. He tangled his arms around Kougami, his long legs settling against his waist, they fumbled with the door, crashing through. Kougami set Ginoza down on the counter, shut and locked the door.

"Nobuchika." He advanced on Ginoza again, his partner's name a breath on his lips.

Ginoza had slipped off the counter, and reached out, grabbed Kougami's wrist. He was still shivering slightly, his coat damp from the snow, cold to the touch. Kougami slipped it from his shoulders, kissed him again, rubbing down his strong, skinny arms to try and warm him. There were so many questions that should be asked, where this was going. What they were to each other. What all this meant. This thing between them was only a day old. But Ginoza's mouth was searing hot, his tongue insistent in Kougami's mouth and Kougami didn't care for doing much but trying to wrestle control of their kiss away from him. And as soon as he got it, he moved his lips to Ginoza's jaw, down his throat, feeling the body underneath him grow warm under his hands. Kougami pushed a hand into his hair, pulled soft and kissed open mouthed on his pulse point.

Ginoza let out a sound that Kougami wished he could bottle and keep for the rest of his life. A single word, "Shinya," breathless and heavy with emotion. It wasn't the depraved moan of arousal he had expected, instead, there was something dark about it, something they would never say aloud. And Kougami moved back up, kissed that sound out of his swollen lips, easing his suit jacket off, left it still damp on the counter.

"Gino, do you want this?" Kougami pulled back, brushed the hand that had been tangled in Ginoza's hair trace down his defined cheekbone. His fingers were blunt, broken on Ginoza's pristine face, clumsy cradling his jaw.

Ginoza didn't answer, for a long while. He couldn't find words. Kougami sunk as he watched the uncertainty course across Ginoza's face, the fear, desire. That thing that hovered between them that they didn't know how to put words to, the same thing that had hovered in Kougami's name on Ginoza's lips. Kougami stepped back, let his hand skim down Ginoza's arm until he held his hand, the only touch that remained.

And slowly, Ginoza nodded. "I think I do."

"You think? Because I need you to be sure, and it's okay if the answer's no." Kougami took his other hand, held them both. "If you're not ready to be any more physical than we are, we won't. And if you're never ready, you're never ready. I don't want to push you, ever. Don't let me make you feel like you have to do anything you don't want." He knew he was just blabbering, filling the silence with nervous chatter, but he kept talking, because Ginoza still looked scared. "I don't want to hurt you. I want this to be right for us both, and if it's not, then it's not, but I, I want this. You, Nobuchika. I want you."

Ginoza raised his hands, brought Kougami's to his lips and kissed his knuckles. "I don't know what I want, Shinya. I know my body is reacting in a way that would say that I want you, but I don't know. I've never wanted anyone, you know that."

Kougami traced his hands over Ginoza's features, gentle, brushed his thumb along a soft lower lip. "No, I didn't. I know you've never acted on it, but I didn't know you've never wanted anyone at all."

"I wasn't sure I was capable of sexual desire." Ginoza avoided Kougami's eyes. "I'm still not sure I am. But I'll try. I'm not opposed to the idea. I certainly enjoy kissing you."

Kougami leaned close, kissed him, smiled. "We'll take this at your pace. If I even think you're starting to get uncomfortable, we stop. Okay?"

"And you'll be the one to make that call?" Ginoza moved away.

"I don't want you pushing yourself for my sake, is all."

"And you think I would?"

"Gino." Kougami smiled, brushed a hand through his hair. They both knew full well Ginoza was likely to not stop, for Kougami's sake, no matter what he felt. 

And Ginoza nodded, leaned toward him, until his forehead pressed against Kougami's shoulder, wrapped both skinny arms around him. "You're right. Of course you're right." He snorted a bitter laugh, but tightened his grip on Kougami all the same. 

Kougami kissed his cheeks, his lips, his jaw, soft, closed eyelids. "Let me take care of you." He whispered, captured another deep kiss. "Let me make this right."

"Somewhere other than the counter maybe?" Ginoza teased, brushing his long fingers through Kougami's messy hair.

"Yeah, somewhere other than the counter. My room?" He offered, loosening Ginoza's tie and using it to pull him into another sloppy kiss. Ginoza melted under his touch, let Kougami guide him to the bedroom, hands on his shoulders, finding their way stumbling and unwilling to break the kiss. He found the edge of the bed in the dark, pushed Ginoza gently to sit.

"Do you mind if I undress?" Kougami smiled, soft, already pulling off his suit jacket.

"I-I thought that was sort of the point." Ginoza hid nervousness behind a smile, sitting back and watching. 

Kougami grinned, already tossing aside his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. The cold air hit his bare chest and he knew Ginoza was staring, openly and the room suddenly felt very small and very warm. Everything boiled down to something storming in Ginoza's eyes. Dark, and heavy, and Kougami had to take those glasses off and see it without the shield. He reached across Ginoza, feeling intense heat radiating off that skinny body, and set his glasses on a small table, slid his own shirt off, and pressed Ginoza down into the bed.

Before he could make another move, he found himself on his back, Ginoza straddling him. "It's unfair that you're so in control of all of this." He told Kougami, tracing his hands down his chest. Long, calloused fingertips brushed his pectorals, brushed over his nipples and he hadn't realized they were sensitive before but his whole body shuddered at the touch. A pleased little smile spread across Ginoza's features and he did it again, moved his hands firm up Kougami's exposed torso, fingers pressing against his nipples and he seemed to take pleasure in drawing another shudder, a soft sound of want, from him.

Kougami reached up, undid Ginoza's tie and reached for the buttons on his shirt. "Is this okay?"

He nodded, and Kougami unbuttoned his shirt, exposing pale skin, his muscles toned despite his rail thin body. "Fuck, you're gorgeous." He sighed, smoothing his hands across Ginoza's torso. He ran both hands up, brushed thumbs across his collarbones, cradled his jaw. "Perfect." Kougami tilted his hips up, hard in his trousers just from having Ginoza in his lap like that.

Ginoza shivered, unsure, eyes wide. "Kou?"

"Yeah, gorgeous?" He traced one hand over Ginoza's soft features. "Are you okay?"

"You want me."

"Of course I do." Kougami sighed, sitting up some. Ginoza was still perched in his lap, long legs around his waist, and Kougami slid his arms around the thinner man. "But that's not important."

"But it is. You want this. Me." Ginoza leaned close, kissed him. "And I want to give that to you."

"Do you want it, though? That's the important part, I promise." Kougami kissed back, slow, open mouthed. He cradled his hands at the small of Ginoza's back, coaxed his mouth open and tasted him. He was sweet and he was warm and he was open and Kougami was so, achingly hard. He was sure Ginoza knew. After all, it was pressed against the searing heat of Ginoza's body.

"I want to give you this." Ginoza breathed between their kisses.

"Then relax, and let me take care of you, okay?" Kougami flipped them again, easily, pulling Ginoza's shirt off his thin arms. "You have to trust me." He pushed a hand through that thick black hair, eased him into another deep kiss. He leaned over Ginoza, arms and legs bracketing him, kissed and nipped at his jaw and his collarbone. "I've got you, Gino, just trust me."

Ginoza kissed back, messy, sloppy and wet and open mouthed, wound his arms around Kougami, pressing his hands into his bare back. "I trust you, Kou, I trust you." He whispered between kisses, even as Kougami pressed his own hips down, arousal hot between his legs. Kougami opened his own pants, just to relieve the pressure, he wasn't sure what he wanted at this point, just get off, get Ginoza off, show him how good it could be.

If he even got that far. Ginoza looked a hair trigger between panic and arousal, face flush, hair a mess, but when Kougami sought his eyes they were dark and scared. Kougami pulled back, let him breathe, didn't try and touch him. But Ginoza reached out, took his hand and brought it to Ginoza's face, leaned into it. "Don't stop."

"Are you sure?"

Ginoza nodded, kissed Kougami's knuckles. "I'm sure."

Kougami slid out of his pants, boxers, and sat up, fully nude, so Ginoza could observe him, get used to the idea. Ginoza needed concrete data to be calm, observations, reality. Kougami knew he couldn't just take him. He needed to provide Ginoza with something to ground him, to keep his mind from racing for details and data. He tried to stay still as Ginoza sat up, running his hands over the structure of Kougami's body, tracing curves of muscle, learning them by touch. He mouthed the anatomical names as he did. The whole experience was heated, unbearably erotic, but even still it seemed to calm Ginoza. 

Calm was good, calm meant he could move on. 

"Can I undress you?" Kougami asked, pressing a kiss to his parted lips.

Ginoza looked away, breathed in deep. "I don't know if I want that, just yet."

"Okay." Kougami smiled, sought his eyes. "That's okay. What do you want, then?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More explicit related material, fair warning. But oh my god, you guys give me the best love on this thing and it's incredible and I am constantly blown away by the feedback I'm getting on this fic! I'd still love to talk about characters and fandom and fic writing and whatever else you guys like, feel free to talk to me here or at inconvenientplaces on tumblr. I have a weird amount of feelings about this fandom, and about Ginoza Nobuchika in particular. I can't wait to get into his relationship with his father here.

_So when you ask "was something wrong?"_  
_That I think "you're damn right there is but we can't talk about it now._  
_No, we can't talk about it now."_  
\- Death Cab for Cutie, Tiny Vessels

"I don't know." Ginoza whispered, leaning closer until Kougami sat down, gathered him into his arms and held close to his skinny body. He pressed his face against the side of Ginoza's throat, kissed the soft, sensitive spots there. Ginoza shivered, slightly, and Kougami knew no one had ever kissed him like that, no one knew the small gasps, the goosebumps that raised up on his pale skin, tracing down his spine and Kougami could see the slight notches of his bone he was so rail thin. So he held on tighter, like if he just never let go he could save Ginoza Nobuchika from this downward spiral. And then they were kissing again, pressed together, Ginoza's hands in his hair, Kougami's hands restless on his pale torso. He pressed one hand against the lowest part of Ginoza's stomach, breathing his name in bare syllables, "Gino, Gino," between kisses and he wasn't thinking when he made a move to unbutton Ginoza's pants, ease them down his long legs.

And Ginoza made no move to stop him. It wasn't until Kougami was eye level with Ginoza's half hard cock that he remembered that his friend, maybe his lover, didn't want it. Had never asked for it, had only ever said that he wanted to give this to Kougami. And that wasn't want. That was sacrifice. Ginoza was staring at him, his eyes dark, wide, frightened.

"You don't want this." Kougami whispered, sitting up. "It's okay. That's, that's okay." He pushed his hands through his own hair, trying to quell his own erection, will it away, told himself again and again that he wouldn't put Ginoza through anything he didn't want. "I'm sorry. I should go."

"This is your room." Ginoza answered, sitting up as well, brushed his long fingers along Kougami's jaw. "Stay. If you want me to go, I'll go."

"Gino, just tell me what you want." He leaned his head into Ginoza's hand, sighed deep.

"I wouldn't mind putting on pants and laying down with you a while, but that would be imposing, wouldn't it? When you want so badly to get off."

"No, it's fine. Just let me shower, we can both sleep here." Kougami leaned forward, brushed his lips across Ginoza's. "I'd like that."

They kissed again, slower this time, exploring, breathing each other in. It was easier then, with no expectations, just their slow, soft kisses, Ginoza's mouth open and soft and so warm. And finally he pulled away, standing. "Just going to wash up, okay, Gino?"

Ginoza nodded, rising from the bed himself. "And you don't mind if I sleep here?"

"I think I'd be hurt if you didn't." He smiled, teased. "Of course you can sleep here."

He figured Ginoza knew exactly what he meant when he said he was going to wash up. He turned the water warm, and allowed his mind to wander back to the soft sounds his partner made when Kougami kissed him just the right way, the heat of his skin under Kougami's fingers. He gripped his own erection under the shower spray, leaned against the tiles, wishing Ginoza could just let go and be a sexual creature. Kougami knew he would be good to him, make everything feel right, he gave himself long, slow strokes and dipped into fantasies of what he could do, the ways he could please him. He imagined going down on Ginoza, sinking to his knees and opening his suit pants just enough to take his cock out, licking and teasing and he didn't stop to consider that even in his fantasies he was pleasing Ginoza, not the other way around, before he came into his hands, breathing his name again and again until each syllable meant nothing.

He took a moment to orient himself, washing the ejaculate from his hands and the shower tile, washed his hair and rubbed soap into his skin. Ginoza was sitting on his bed when he came back, still shirtless, but he had put on a pair of pajama pants, was looking at the massive bookshelf that dominated most of Kougami's room.

"You know, you can borrow any of my books." Kougami sat behind him, ran one hand down his arm.

"I don't know how you have so many. Most people don't bother with paper books anymore." Ginoza leaned back into him, let Kougami trace patterns into the muscles of his arms. Kougami only got up long enough to pull on his own pants, a loose t-shirt, and sat back down again, pressing his face against Ginoza's shoulder and wrapping his arms around his waist. Ginoza laid back into him, still reading the titles on the bookshelf. "Which one's your favorite?" He asked, taking Kougami's hand in both of his.

"I don't know. I don't think I have one."

"Where do you find them all?"

"Outskirts of town, you can sometimes find them in secondhand shops." Kougami explained, tugging Ginoza down to the bed.

"Take me with you next time?"

Kougami laughed, kissed his shoulder. "Of course I will. But the sun's coming up, you should sleep."

"Mm, you too." Ginoza turned to him, wound his arms around Kougami's waist and laid down against his chest. "We have to overnight on watch tomorrow."

"And if Division two failed, there will likely be another bombing."

"We have to assume they failed and we'll be dealing with another high area stress level spike during our shift." Kougami mumbled, held him close. "Which means we should arrive well rested."

Ginoza nodded, his eyes already falling shut. "You're very warm."

"Is that good?"

But Ginoza was already asleep, breathing soft, deep. Kougami pressed a kiss against the top of his head, curled protectively around the smaller man, and tried to sleep himself, listening to his soft breaths, the steady beat of his heart. Kougami didn't know if the night had gone horribly wrong, or if it was exactly what it needed to be, but there Ginoza was, sleeping soft, tucked against Kougami, and maybe it had been wrong but the end result was the same. 

He dreamed of the ocean, warm, the setting sun made the water look like flames. Kougami had never been to the ocean, only seen photos, videos. Old recordings of oceans far away in countries he couldn't pronounce the names of. But in his dream he could feel sand under his feet, the harsh saltwater smell was tangible against his face. The summer heat a weight on his bare skin. He wasn't sure how, but he knew what it sounded like when waves crashed into the shore, soft rolling heavy waves, bright with salt and the bitter scent of the ocean, breaking against the cool sand.

And he wasn't alone. Ginoza was standing in the surf, still in his work suit, the water brushed against his calves. Kougami didn't know where they were, the ocean seemed endless, all he could see to each side was sand. In the dream, he didn't look behind him. He was sure nothing was there. In the logic of the dream, all that existed was this beach, the brilliant sparkling ocean in the setting sun. He wasn't even sure if he was real, or if Ginoza was. It didn't matter. The tide rose as the sun set, water rising around Ginoza's long legs and still he didn't move. And Kougami knew it would all be okay. They could be swept up together into the ocean and find somewhere new. Somewhere better than this, far away from a snowed in tiny apartment and a job that would kill one of them, if not both, eventually.

The tide rose and rose, but it never reached Kougami. He was trapped on the sand, watching the water soak the top of Ginoza's legs, waves hitting his waist and dampening that perfect white shirt, Kougami stood behind him and still he knew the shirt was transparent, clinging to the curve of his slight muscular structure. And Kougami tried to run to him, felt his legs sticking in the beach like quicksand. He called out for him, reached out, threw himself forward and got no closer to Ginoza, the water lapping at his shoulders as he stood perfectly still and calm. Ginoza let the tides wrap around him, and Kougami still felt that resolution, that calm. It was coming from Ginoza. He knew he was drowning and he had come to terms with that.

Kougami wasn't there when the last wave crashed over him.

He woke with a start, to Ginoza leaning over him, nudging his shoulder. Concern was written in every line of his young face.

"Hey." Kougami smiled, leaned up to kiss him.

"Kou, you were having a nightmare."

"Didn't feel like one." And it hadn't. As the beach faded from his memory, all he could bring to mind was that overwhelming certainty that this was okay.

"You kept calling out for me." Ginoza sat beside him, stroking his hand through Kougami's messy hair. "It sounded like you were afraid."

Kougami moved closer, let his head rest on Ginoza's leg. "I'm okay. What time is it, anyway?"

"Just past ten in the morning." Ginoza continued to play with his hair, smoothing the thick strands back, his hand brushing against Kougami's forehead. "I had expected you to sleep a while longer."

"How long have you been up?"

"Since you started calling out for me."

"Didn't mean to wake you." Kougami smiled, took his hand and held it close. He rubbed Ginoza's knuckles, brought them to his lips. "You can go back to sleep if you want."

"No, there's work to be done. There was another bombing last night."

"We don't have to go in 'till two."

"Doesn't mean there isn't work." Ginoza kissed his forehead. "But I can take care of it. Go back to sleep, Shinya."

He shook his head no, sat up. "I can help. Or at least make coffee."

Ginoza nodded, stood with him. "Just let me wash and get ready."

Kougami wrapped one hand around his arm, pulled him gently into a kiss. "Would you eat breakfast?"

"I'll try." Ginoza smiled, shutting himself immediately after in the bathroom.

Kougami took his time, stretching his whole body, lingering in the remaining presence of Ginoza in his bed. The pillow still smelled like his shampoo, he could almost feel that soft hair in his hands, feel Ginoza pressed against his body. But he forced himself to get up, to pull on clothes and order the apartment system to make coffee and a light breakfast, something he thought might coerce his too skinny partner to eat.

Ginoza was still shower damp, fixing his hair when he came out of the shower, and leaned close to Kougami. In close quarters like this, Kougami was made aware of the inch of height Ginoza held over him, and of the way he sunk slightly so Kougami looked larger. He didn't question it, just wrapped his arm around the taller man, held him close.

Ginoza leaned his head on his shoulder. "I looked at the reports. They're still focusing on clubs that host registered music performances."

"Only you would work in the damned shower." Kougami teased.

"What else is the computer system panel in there for?"

Kougami laughed. "Checking morning stuff? Making the apartment make coffee? Music?"

"Or reading the messages that came in overnight." Ginoza cleaned off his glasses, perched them once again on his nose and went to pour himself coffee.

"I suppose so." Kougami wrapped his arms around the skinny man from behind, kissed his cheek. "But we still have hours before we have to go in."

"It's not an excuse to slack off, Kou."

"It's an excuse to do things other than work." He got himself a cup of coffee, grabbed the breakfast pastries from the small food terminal in what passed for a kitchen and handed Ginoza one.

"Like what?" Ginoza caved, a little, taking a bite of his food and smiling.

 _You_ , Kougami thought, but he didn't say it. "I don't know. Usually I read, or watch something, or get a decent work out in."

"Or irritate me." Ginoza teased.

"Yeah, that too. But only because you need to loosen up." Kougami teased fingertips along Ginoza's sides. "Why don't you come with me, and we'll go down to the gym and spar?"

Ginoza smiled, leaned back into him. "We could."

Kougami pushed both hands through his hair. "Go get changed, then. Can't have you ruining such a nice suit." He tugged at the jacket, but Ginoza stepped away before he could remove it.

"I'll meet you downstairs." He explained, leaning forward to kiss Kougami's cheek.

Kougami cupped his jaw, kissed him, lingering. "And what do I get if I win?"

"If you win, I'll take you shopping for old books on our next day off?"

"Like a date?"

"Exactly like a date." Ginoza reached for his hands, held them. "Now finish your coffee, and come fight me." A gentle tease, he squeezed Kougami's hands.

Kougami stared, blank, for a moment, astonished that Ginoza could be so effortlessly sensual, without any of the desire that usually accompanied that. It was borderline devastating. But Ginoza was gone again, and Kougami slowly took a long drink of his coffee, trying to quell desire. After that night, he wasn't sure where they stood physically. If Ginoza would ever want him the way Kougami wanted. And the more he thought about it, the less he was sure of anything. He knew Ginoza softened around him, held on to him, let Kougami support and hold him, and kiss him, and he knew there were moments when Kougami would smile and he would see Ginoza just light up, relax, and those were the good moments. But he was still guarded. He closed off as often as he gave in, pulled in, and Kougami could see him falling apart, but he couldn't say it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be at Fanime in San Jose California this weekend, so the next update might be a few days late, sorry!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, one more warning. There might be some actual sex acts in here. And a moment on that- I love the headcanon of asexual Ginoza. I think there should be more asexual characters in fiction. And there are characters in this fandom that I do headcanon as asexual, but that will come up later. For the purposes of this fic, though, he's demisexual, verging on ace. And very selectively romantic. So don't think that by writing this I am attempting to negate asexual Ginoza. Anyways, sorry it's late. The next one will be up sooner rather than later. As always, thanks for all the love this gets. I never expected this kind of a reaction to such a small fic in a small fandom with a small pairing. But I'm glad for this.

_So what now lover with your long black hair_   
_If I cut you open baby I can repair_   
_And bandage your wounds with the salt on my tongue_   
_And I'm the only one around here. _  
\- The Gaslight Anthem, The Spirit of Jazz__

__He grabbed hand wraps, pulled off his t-shirt, and took the elevator down to the small gym attached to the apartment block. Ginoza joined him not a minute later, impossibly gorgeous in a tight black shirt, his hair pushed away from his face, focused. His hand wraps were close around long fingers, he was still fastening the straps while Kougami leaned back and indulged in watching._ _

__Ginoza looked up, his eyes narrowed in a teasing smile. He slipped off his glasses, set them on a bench and pushed the floor mats together to even out the gaps. "Well? Ready?"_ _

__Kougami grinned, crooked, stretched his arms. "More than."_ _

__Fighting Ginoza was like dancing. He was quick, thoughtful, not necessarily on the offensive, he looked for openings Kougami didn't notice. In that way, they were equally matched, despite Kougami's strength. The first time they had sparred, back in school, getting out frustrations over exams, Ginoza had beaten him soundly. Kougami remembered months of training to figure out what Ginoza was doing, how someone so small had managed to beat him. And once he had figured it out, Ginoza became his new sparring partner. They were a fitting match even in the ring, blocking and swerving, completely focused on the fight. Kougami landed a good hit to his gut, confident he could win this time._ _

__He found himself thrown into the mat, Ginoza pinning him with one hand. His face was flush with a thin sheen of sweat, bangs hanging damp into his pale eyes. It was unbearably erotic, the deep breathing, Ginoza's hand clenched in his shirt. Kougami pushed them so he knelt over Ginoza, taking the upper hand in the playful battle. Ginoza fought back, but when it came to grappling, strength won out over Ginoza's cleverness. Arrogant, Kougami leaned down and stole a kiss, grinning crooked at his partner. Ginoza used the moment to twist out from under him, pulled Kougami into a headlock._ _

__"I win." He whispered into Kougami's ear._ _

__"Yeah. You win. This time." Kougami laughed, breaking out of the hold and standing up. He held his hand out and thought it would never cease to amaze him when Ginoza grabbed his hand, let Kougami help, even in the smallest bits. Kougami couldn't resist kissing his cheek. "Get changed, Gino. I'll make us a bite to eat before we go see if we can't get any information out of Kunizuka before our shift."_ _

__"I thought you didn't want to work before your shift, Shinya." Ginoza teased, using a towel to wipe a thin sheen of sweat from his face._ _

__"You do. And I'm willing to work with you on that one." Kougami stole the towel, wiped his own face._ _

__Ginoza insisted on washing again, and Kougami made their coffee, had the computer system make the kind of sweet pastries that Ginoza loved. He threw on his work suit, took only a few moments to make sure he didn't look completely unkempt, and sunk into the sofa with the book he had been reading just a couple days ago, when this had all begun. It made more sense, now that he and Ginoza were trying this thing, but at the same time, the melancholy was worse, to know that he might lose Ginoza at any time. A case could kill them. Their coefficients could raise too high, one or both of them forced into rehab, or never allowed to see each other again. Ginoza could be killed by a case. Kougami could suffer the same. He threw the book aside, pushed himself to his feet and grabbed a tablet to go over the emails that had been sent from Division two concerning the most recent findings from the bombing case._ _

__He couldn't stop thinking about Ginoza. What would happen if they had been caught in the bombings. He would have been forced to separate from Ginoza, not knowing if he had been in the explosion, if the man he had just come to love was trapped, injured, bleeding out under a piece of rubble. If he had died when Kougami wasn't there to save him. Kougami could visualize it perfectly, and it terrified him to think about how well he see Ginoza, beaten and covered in blood, eyes wide as he sought anything, anyone who might be able to save him. Kougami's hands clenched reflexively, like he would be the one to save the Ginoza who only existed in his mind._ _

__There was a system, that Sybil offered, where the algorithims that ran their country would recommend a romantic partner, or assess your compatibility with the parter you chose. Kougami had never put much faith in it, Sybil was sort of the background noise to his life, not a defining factor in it. He'd never thought to ask Sybil it's opinion on who he was sleeping with. And yet there he was, dialing the system into the house computer and hoping it didn't alert Ginoza to the fact that he was curiously plugging his own identification into the little box. The automated voice asked him if he wanted Sybil to recommend him a partner, or assess his chances with his current partner._ _

__"I want you to tell me my chance of personal success with my current chosen partner." He murmured, hoped Ginoza didn't hear. He rattled off Ginoza's information from memory, working in close quarters his name and identification number were as common to Kougami as his own._ _

__Sybil thought, a long while, running the computations and algorithims that ran their society to come up with a personalized answer for Kougami's worry. And the more the program ran, the more worried Kougami was. Because he knew Ginoza would put stock into Sybil's suggestions, and if the answer wasn't favorable, and Ginoza found out, that was a conversation he didn't want to have. There was no way to explain to a computer how right it felt to hold Ginoza, to breathe him in, to kiss him again and again until he felt Ginoza begin to fall apart in his arms. How could he explain to something that had never been alive how it felt to know that he was the one, perhaps the only one, who could put him back together? There were no words for how good it felt to simply be allowed to hold Ginoza. He had to tell himself, again and again and again, that no matter what Sybil said, he wasn't giving up on them. He could make Ginoza better, he knew that._ _

__"We are sorry, but we cannot safely recommend your chosen romantic partner at this time." The automated voice told him what he already knew. And at least he was alone, but at the same time, he had to sit on that information, on knowing that it wasn't advised, and he didn't bother to ask why, simply ended the program and finished his coffee, hands shaking. Ginoza could never know. That was his mantra, calming himself, Ginoza could never know._ _

__He appeared in the hallway, toweling his hair dry, smiled for Kougami. And so he held his arm out, let Ginoza settle into his side, and he was less afraid then, of what Sybil had said. The way Ginoza rested against him, completely relaxed, was more than enough to know this was right. The system had lied. This could work. He pressed a kiss into Ginoza's dark hair, felt the sigh, the smile it drew from him._ _

__"So you won. What do you want as a reward?" Kougami teased gently._ _

__"I have it." Ginoza murmured,tugging his knees to his chest and resting his head, whole skinny body tucked against Kougami's side._ _

__"Yeah?"_ _

__Ginoza nodded, taking the tablet to look at the communications concerning last night's bombing. "Unless you're willing to let me get a dog."_ _

__It was an old argument, not even really a disagreement, that Ginoza wanted a dog. Their hours were too long, jobs too stressful to deal with a pet. So he teased Kougami about it constantly, less than half serious._ _

__Kougami laughed, nudged him. "One day." He promised, hoped he meant it. That one day, perhaps, if this all worked out, they could retire together to a simpler career, adopt a dog. Maybe move to the outskirts of the city where everything was less regulated. He had to hope it all worked out, because the idea made him smile, made him hold Ginoza's curled up body tighter to his side and forget about the robotic false cheer that told him they could not recommend his chosen romantic partner._ _

__"One day?" Ginoza looked up from the tablet, above the rim of his glasses._ _

__"When we don't have to do this anymore." Kougami tilted his face, gentle, kissed him. It was deep, longing, full of every promise Kougami wouldn't make aloud. Every vow of safety, of security, of love that he was too scared to say because this was too new, too unpracticed, untested. He couldn't scare Ginoza away with the intensisty of his feeling. So he simply kissed him again and hoped that he understood._ _

__Ginoza sighed against the kiss, unfolded his long limbs and wound around Kougami, drew him back into the sofa. Kougami leaned over him, captured his lips once more, toying his fingers at Ginoza's perfectly knotted tie. He straddled his slender waist, his other hand moving into his hair, and pressed further at the kiss, opening his mouth, trying to draw the same sounds of pleasure as he had been given the night before. This had to be right. It was so damned good. Ginoza was gripping the front of his shirt, kissing him in return for each that he was granted, and their kisses grew more messy, unpracticed, eager. The want that hadn't been quelled last night had returned, and Kougami clenched his hand in Ginoza's hair, discovered that pulling slightly made him gasp, demand more from their kissing. His teeth scraped Kougami's lower lip, dragging along the sensitive skin._ _

__Finally, Kougami had the good sense to sit up, to look at Ginoza. "Do you want this, this time, Gino?"_ _

__"I think so." Ginoza smiled._ _

__"Sparring does it for you, then?" Kougami tried to laugh it off, tried to relax his partner._ _

__"Maybe." Ginoza smiled._ _

__Kougami grinned, kissed him once, twice more. "Me too." He nosed gently at his glasses, kised right underneath his eye. "Sparring against you, at least." Gentle, smoothing his hand through Ginoza's soft hair, he tilted his head back, kissed open mouthed at his throat and jaw. "How long do we have?"_ _

__"An hour." Ginoza breathed, relaxing into the sofa. "Just an hour."_ _

__"Mm, I can work with that." Kougami smiled, crooked, and slid down Ginoza's long body, hands smoothing at his sides, letting his fingers scratch just a little at his crisp white shirt. He rested his head on the concave of his stomach and made the mistake of looking up._ _

__Ginoza was flush, watching him, his green eyes dark. His hair was a mess from Kougami's hands in it, lips red and swollen from kissing. His tie was loose, shirt wrinkled around his waist, he gasped in each breath watching Kougami touch him._ _

__"Tell me you want it." Kougami kissed his stomach over his clothing._ _

__"Kou- Kou- unh, Shinya, I want you." Ginoza stammered, hands clenching in Kougami's shirt where he didn't know quite what to hold on to._ _

__Kougami gently raised Ginoza's shirt, kissed along the lowest part of his stomach, the tight forms of muscle twitching under his lips. He looked up once more, confirming the pure, unadulterated need in Ginoza's eyes before opening his pants, easing them down and moving his underclothing to expose an almost fully hard erection. He licked, once, against the over sensitive vein on the underside of his arousal, as long and slender as the rest of him, just to watch Ginoza's hips jerk, unsure of what he wanted, or of what this pleasure was. Kougami steadied one hand on Ginoza's hip, meaning only to keep him still as he closed his lips around the full head of his cock._ _

__Kougami wanted to bottle the sound he made and savor it for the rest of his life. He cried out aloud, his head falling back into the sofa, hips trying restlessly to thrust into Kougami's mouth, trapped by his hand. There was no way he would last long, not like that, Kougami didn't have the time he would want to indulge in long, teasing traces of his tongue, to press his tongue into the slit. He merely hollowed his cheeks around the head of Ginoza's erection, moving as far down as he could manage without choking on the long shaft. And when he did come, sudden, too soon, Kougami tried to swallow every bit of his ejaculate, tried to make it good. He coughed, leaned up, wiped his mouth and met Ginoza's hazy eyes. "Good?"_ _

__"Fuck, Kou." Ginoza breathed, leaned back still, hips moving slightly with the force of his pent up want finally being relieved. "Fuck."_ _

__Kougami moved up, deliberately ignoring his own arousal. "Yeah." He pressed his face against Ginoza's throat, breathed him in. "Fuck."_ _

__"What about you?"_ _

__"Not important, right now, Nobuchika." He smiled, breathed in deep once more and kissed his cheek. "Wanted to do that for you. It's enough."_ _


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I am so sorry this is late, again! I failed you all and people seem to really like this fic and a very, very kind person told me I was one of their favorite writers in this fandom. I don't deserve that kind of love. I'm perpetually late on fic updates but I do love writing this, and I mean to finish it. And I mean to get back on track with a once a week update schedule. Just bear with me.

_Well, you build it up, you wreck it down_  
_You burn your mansion to the ground_  
_When there's nothing left to keep you here, when_  
_You're falling behind in this_  
_Big blue world_  
_Oh you go to_  
_Hold on, hold on_  
_You got to hold on_  
_Take my hand, I'm standing right here_  
_You got to hold on_  
\- Tom Waits, Hold On

They didn't talk about it. They functioned in the same space, closer to each other, their touches fond, but fleeting, as they gathered the car, took Sasayama again because he was pleading to get out of the PSB buildings again, and went to the facility where they were holding Kunizuka Yayoi.

"I don't know why you keep coming back." She leaned back in her seat, but there was a tense frustration to the set of her shoulders. So rehab was wearing on her. "It's like you get off on being told no."

Ginoza recoiled, and Kougami felt himself seethe quietly that this girl was getting to him so much. But they needed her, and he had a plan.

"Inspector Ginoza, why don't you let me take care of this." He smiled, hoping Ginoza read in his expression that he could handle it. That he knew how this was going to work.

And it did. He escorted Kunizuka Yayoi to the crime scene, let her help bring the bombers in. And his intuition had been right. She knew them, she knew the field, she was crucial in bringing them to justice. She was strong, and capable, and maybe, just maybe, realizing she could be useful with them. And maybe it was just a way out and this would all blow up in their faces. He was willing to run that risk.

Sasayama insisted on celebrating their new recruit. Masaoka donated a bottle of liquor, fine whiskey, and they gathered in the break room, passing the bottle around. Ginoza sat away from them, and Kougami tried not to worry. It wasn't like him to join in the revelry either way. And halfway through the bottle, Kunizuka broke out her guitar, started to play for them.

Kougami used it as an excuse to sit beside Ginoza, offer him the liquor bottle. He snatched it out of Kougami's hand, took a long drink. "That was one of the most phenomenally stupid things I've seen you do."

"Offer you booze?" Kougami laughed, loose with the alcohol.

"Giving an unlicensed latent criminal a Dominator."

"I knew it wasn't going to work for her. And it got her to trust us. Look at this, Gino. She fits here."

She did. Masaoka had found out she knew some old rock and roll songs, and they were playing together, Sasayama smoking and laughing along even though he didn't know the words. None of them were paying any attention to the Inspectors sitting in the back. Kougami used the relative quiet to slip his hand against Ginoza's back, drank again and passed the bottle over. 

The more they drank, the sloppier the movements became, and the Enforcers slowly dispersed, Masaoka gave them a knowing look when he shut the door. Kougami was too drunk to worry about the conversation that was going to ensue. They were finally alone, and Ginoza was leaning on his shoulder, laughing softly at nothing in particular.

"Hey, what's so funny Gino?"

Ginoza laughed harder, cheeks flushed red, and kissed Kougami's shoulder where his head lay. "Nothing. I just, I get to do this and it makes me happy."

"Do what?" Kougami prodded, laughed. "What are you so happy about?"

"Shut up Kou." Ginoza laughed, leaning into him once more.

Kougami pushed his fingers through Ginoza's hair and tried to commit the sound of his laughter to memory. It was so rare. And Kougami needed it. He pushed Ginoza, slowly, tilted his head back until he could kiss him, deep, and slow, and lingering, and the pent up desire from that morning was coiling low in his stomach. "Gino." He whispered. "Gino you're perfect."

Ginoza sighed, head falling back into Kougami's hands, and Kougami leaned close, kissed him again and again. Ginoza tried to keep up, gasping, soft, eager sounds escaping him, slurred with whiskey. And Kougami wrapped an arm around his waist, holding him up, tried not to laugh when they parted and he saw how flush Ginoza was, his glasses askew and his hair a mess. And he was grinning at Kougami, eager and happy and maybe that was just because of the alcohol, but he wanted to keep that expression. So he hoisted Ginoza into his arms and deposited him on the sofa, laughed.

Ginoza kissed him again, slow, unafraid.

"We're not getting home tonight."

"I've slept on the sofa before." Ginoza teased, playing with Kougami's hair, his long legs bracketing his hips. "So have you."

Kougami brushed his fingers over Ginoza's forehead, slipped his glasses off. "I think we'll fit just fine."

Ginoza laughed, his head tilting back, he wrapped both arms around Kougami. And Kougami kissed along his jaw and throat, smiling with him, trying to savor that happiness as long as it lasted. "You're drunk."

"So are you."

Kougami kissed him, once again capturing his lips. "Not as drunk as you."

Ginoza quieted some, calming in Kougami's arms, his eyes slipped closed. And Kougami pressed a kiss right between his forehead, brushed a hand through his hair. "Hey, Nobuchika?"

"Mm?" Ginoza sighed, his eyes barely opened.

"I need to tell you something. Promise not to freak out?" Kougami kissed down the bridge of his nose.

"I'll do my best." He did look at Kougami then, he focused through the haze of alcohol.

"I love you." Kougami whispered, made himself speak. Because he couldn't keep that in, it was bursting at the seams, he loved Ginoza Nobuchika. Loved him. And he didn't know how long he had loved him, but there it was, the knowledge that this was it had been there since that morning. And Ginoza had to know.

"You do?"

Kougami rested his head on Ginoza's shoulder, held him close. "I know. It's stupid. I shouldn't feel like this, so close to you. But it's there. And I thought you should know. I'm sorry. You don't have to love me back."

And, for a long time, there was silence. He thought Ginoza had fallen asleep, and he was just trying to not be annoyed. Of course he would fall asleep. He was drunk, and Kougami was just drunk enough to start pouring out his feelings.

"I want to love you." Ginoza finally whispered. "Just give me time."

Kougami nodded, the alcohol was making him tired. "All the time you need. Just let me stay here, and love you, and be here for you, and you can take all the time you need."

Ginoza curled around him. "Even if it takes forever? You won't leave?"

"I wouldn't dream of leaving." Kougami promised.

They fell asleep tangled up in each other, Kougami's face pressed against Ginoza's shoulder, arms tight around his slender body, one leg pressed between his. It was warm, it was comfortable, and for a long moment he didn't even realize he was still in the PSB rec room. And Ginoza was fast asleep, tucked comfortably against Kougami, breathing deep and even. Kougami couldn't move without waking him, so he tucked his face against his shoulder once more and took a long moment to revel in how good it felt to be allowed this. But then Ginoza's communicator was going off and he was waking, slowly, disentangling himself from Kougami with a frustrated groan.

"Inspector Ginoza. What is it?"

Kougami couldn't hear the other side of the conversation, but Ginoza was massively annoyed with Karanomori on the other line, something about paperwork for the new girl, and Ginoza was adjusting his suit, his tie, grabbing his glasses and running out of the room without even a glance to Kougami.

He managed to make himself look like maybe he hadn't slept on the sofa in the rec room and made his way to the office, ordering a drone to make coffee and bring it down, and Kougami did his best not to be put off that Ginoza had ignored him. After all, there was work to be done. Write ups for the new hire, for the conclusion of last night's case, and he still had to deal with the look Masaoka had given him just before he left. Or maybe he could get away with ignoring that one unless Masaoka brought it up himself. 

But Sasayama was off duty that day, and Masaoka was the only one in the office when he got there.

"Inspector."

"Good morning." The drone followed him in with the requested coffee, and he sunk into his chair. "No updates, I assume?"

"No, the morning's been pretty clear. Do you have a minute?"

Kougami tried not to show his nerves. "Yeah. Got all morning, actually. Inspector Ginoza's dealing with getting the new enforcer set up. So it's just you and me holding down the fort here."

"Yeah." Masaoka nodded, turning to face Kougami. "So. You and Inspector Ginoza?"

Kougami looked down, nodded. "You going to give me the whole 'you hurt my kid and I ruin you' speech?"

"No." Masaoka smiled. "You know better than to hurt him."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Good. Just one thing I want to know."

"What's that?"

"Is he happy?"

The question hit Kougami like a physical blow. Was he happy? Sometimes. Sometimes he smiled, he relaxed, he laughed. Sometimes things were normal. And sometimes Kougami would look over, and he would be so small, lost and tired and scared.

"I don't know. But I'll do whatever it takes to get him there. I'm going to protect him, Masaoka. That much I can promise you."

"Best either of us can ask for, I guess."

Kougami lit a cigarette, sighed heavily. "I love him. And maybe that's not right, I mean hell, it's probably not. All this is probably going to kill us both, but I can't help it. You know, contrary to Sybil propaganda, you don't really get to make a logical decision about who to fall for."

"Just don't fuck it up, okay? Don't make Nobuchika go through that."

"I'd never put him through that. He's been through enough already." Kougami murmured, lighting another cigarette, ordering more coffee.

"I know I fucked up, Inspector. And he might never forgive me for it. I'm surprised you did. I probably don't deserve it." Masaoka shook his head, took a cup of coffee and stirred sugar into it. "Nobuchika has the right to hate me."

Kougami sighed. "I'm not going to try and tell you you didn't fuck up. But you did what you thought was right. And you're here now, you're looking out for him as much as you can."

"I didn't want him to end up here."

Kougami couldn't answer that. Even if he had wanted to. Ginoza took that moment to let himself in, showing Kunizuka Yayoi to her desk. He glanced between Masaoka and Kougami, and his shoulders stiffened subtly. 

"You've met Inspector Kougami Shinya, and this is Enforcer Masaoka Tomomi." Ginoza introcuced Kunizuka. "Like Miss Karanomori explained, when you're not on shft, you can do as you wish, speak with who you wish, but you cannot leave the building without one of the Inspectors. Inspector Kougami and I will do our best to provide you with whatever you need to live comfortably, within reason, of course, and should you have any issue at all, we'll do our best to assist."

She simply nodded, sinking down into her desk chair.

Ginoza looked to Kougami, stiff, annoyed. "Inspector, may I speak with you?"

"Yeah. Sure." Kougami stood, took his cigarettes and stepped into the hallway.

"You and Masaoka were discussing me."

Kougami looked away. "He's worried about you."

"Then he can take his concerns up with me himself."

"Probably should. I think he wanted to, you know, make sure I've got good intentions with you too."

"So he doesn't trust me to maintain my own relationships." Ginoza snapped.

"Look. We're both worried about you, Gino. And I just want you to be happy."

"Then maybe start with actually talking to me, and not gossiping about me to him." Ginoza turned away, barely hiding anger.

"I will." Kougami promised, reaching for his hand.

Ginoza wrenched his hand away. "I'm off duty. Make sure Kunizuka is acclaimated to her new environment."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is at least semi-successful by this point, but if anyone wants to help me reach a wider audience, I would be more than glad to do something for them in exchange!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm finally on time for a chapter update, for once. And, as usual, I love all the kudos and comments and compliments everything I'm getting from this fic. It's overwhelming, I'm not used to this kind of support. So thank you. Really, well and truly, thank you. Each and every single last one of you. I have a lot of feelings and ideas about these characters, so I love chatting with others in this fandom. You can always reach me here, or at inconvenientplaces on tumblr. (And if anyone wants to help me get this fic out to an even wider audience, I would be willing to do something for them in return.)

_And if I recover_  
_Will you be my comfort?_  
_Or it can be over_  
_Or we can just leave it here_  
\- Chvrches, Recover

Kunizuka adjusted quickly. She set herself up at her desk, and, within a minute of Kougami entering the office once more, jutted out a piece of paper.

"What's this?" Kougami asked, still overly stressed of the fight he'd had with Ginoza.

"Things I want. For my personal comfort and well being, as your skinny little angry boyfriend put it."

Kougami took the paper, set it aside. "He makes supply orders. I'll pass it on tomorrow."

She pulled up a chair, sat backwards in it, arms draped over the chair back. "You were fighting."

"It's nothing. At least, nothing that should worry you."

"Dunno. If my handlers are fighting, might put us in more danger."

"Won't let it affect our job performance. I can promise you that much."

"Depends on what you were fighting about."

Kougami shook his head. "Why don't you take a little bit in here by yourself to settle in. Masaoka, come with me. Going to get some decent coffee for us."

They left the building, and Kougami lit a cigarette, sighed heavily. "You need to talk to Gino."

"Nobuchika doesn't want to talk to me." Masaoka scoffed, hands shoved in his pockets. "Pretty much refuses, mind."

"He needs to know you care. And that you're concerned. I think he's mistaking it for patronizing right now."

Masaoka nodded. "I'll try."

"I suspect he thinks we're conspiring against him."

"About what?" Masaoka laughed, a little.

"Who even knows." Kougami sighed, lit another cigarette. "Don't, you know, tell him I told you, but I think he's scared."

"What's he got to be scared of? The whole world is set up for him. You two are on the fast track through the PSB, and as a team you're exceptional at your jobs. He's got his life set up for him, and now he's got you. Stressed, I get. Overworked and under- slept, yeah. But I don't know what he has to be scared of."

"You're not going to like the answer."

"He's scared of becoming me." Masaoka muttered, holding his hand out, and Kougami gave him the pack of cigarettes, lit one for him.

"Yeah. He's scared he's going to lose all this, somehow. End up where you are."

"Shit, that scares me too, Inspector."

Kougami nodded, sat down on a bench outside Ginoza's favorite cafe, head in his hands. "We're doing all we can. Right?"

"We are." Masaoka sat beside him, put out the cigarette. "You've got to remember, I'm here to take the hits that you and Nobuchika can't. My hue's already shot too dark to recover. Sasayama and the new girl's, too. It's our job. So don't you go running off into danger and getting yourself sat right where we are trying to look out for him."

Kougami nodded. "Thanks."

Masaoka nodded. "I know they teach you we're irredeemable. That people like me, and Sasayama, and even the girls are broken, somehow. To be fair, it's probably easier if you think that. Definitely easier if you let Nobuchika keep thinking that. But don't think for one second I wouldn't put my life on the line for you two. I was stupid, when I let them lock me away instead of adapting to this new system for the sake of my son. Didn't realize what it would do to him to see me leave. I was selfish. Even when I begged to join Division One I was selfish. Didn't think about what seeing me again would do to him. Gonna' be trying to make it all up to him probably for the rest of my life. And that includes protecting you, now. Because you're important to him."

Kougami thought, a long moment, lighting another cigarette. "You're human. Just like the rest of us. Crime coefficients or not, end of the day, we're just human. And humans are imperfect."

Masaoka nodded in understanding.

Kougami went inside the cafe, picked up coffee for the on duty members of his team. They walked back in silence, enjoying the early winter cold, or at least Kougami was. He wanted to go home, gather Ginoza into his arms and take him out to enjoy the weather before the cold turned too bitter. Just one more good day.

He felt selfish even asking for that.

They were called out to a stress area spike at an upscale shopping center, and despite how quick the work was, they had to remain, trying to placate the shop manager, angry about Kunizuka destroying a display to catch the thief. Truth was, the manager was more angry that Kunizuka didn't care about the display, seemed genuinely confused that the manager wasn't more grateful that she had caught a thief.

Kougami had to laugh, which only got them in more trouble.

Masaoka ushered them out of the shop, telling Kougami he should really talk to his Enforcer about her behavior. Kougami had no intention of doing so, but the look on Masaoka's face told him the older Enforcer had it covered. And Kougami believed him. So Kougami left, Kunizuka in tow.

"Wait here a second." He told her, bought chocolate from a vending machine and brought it back to her. "Good job."

"Thought I was in trouble."

"I would have done the exact same thing. And then laughed at that asshole for thinking her merchandise was worth more than us doing our jobs right."

She took the chocolate, smiled. "Thanks. You're not as bad as your little boyfriend."

"He's okay. Just gets a bit stressed about the job. Sorry if he was, you know, mean."

"It's alright. He probably buys into the whole 'latent criminals are the scum of the earth' propaganda. Most people do."

Kougami merely shrugged.

Masaoka left the shop, carrying a small bag. "Give these to Inspector Ginoza." He jutted out the bag to Kougami. "And the manager's apologized for any inconvenience she caused us with her outburst."

Kougami peeked into the bag. Inside was a dark, forest green scarf, finely made, and a pair of synthetic leather brown gloves, just as elegant, understated, practical. Kougami smiled.

"Don't tell Nobuchika they came from me." Masaoka whispered as he climbed in the back of the paddy wagon to go back to the PSB.

"Did you buy off the manager or something?"

Masaoka merely smiled, pulled the door of the wagon shut.

Kougami made sure Kunizuka was comfortable enough at the PSB before he left for the evening. Rather, he tried to, but Karanomori insisted on taking care of the new girl herself. So Kougami took the car back to the apartment, tried to be quiet when he let himself in.

Ginoza was curled up on the sofa, one of Kougami's books in his hands. Ancient Russian literature, a couple hundred years old at least, but Ginoza seemed completely engrossed. Kougami wasn't overly fond of Russian literature, it tended to be too slow, meandering with the characters rather than advancing a plot. But he would buy just about any paper book he could get, no matter if he enjoyed it or not. And this one seemed to be serving it's purpose. Kougami set the small shop bag down, hung his coat and pulled off shoes damp with fresh fallen snow. But still, Ginoza didn't look up. So Kougami took his time to watch Ginoza, his pale skin, hair falling around his face in thick black strands, glasses sliding down his elegant nose. He was out of his suit, changed into warm clothes, an over large grey sweater, fitted jeans. He folded into himself to conserve warmth, long legs brought up to his chest, book perched on skinny knees. His fingers worried at the edges of the pages, and Kougami couldn't bring himself to be angry that the book might be damaged. He wanted to bury his face in that soft hair, wind around his body and listen to him read aloud. Kougami thought he might understand Russian literature if Ginoza read it to him.

Kougami went to the kitchen, found the tea kettle out, but the water inside had gone cold. A mug was sitting near Ginoza, long ignored, the tea strainer still inside. So Kougami turned the kettle on again, finally approached Ginoza.

He looked up, seemed surprised to see Kougami.

"Hello." Kougami smiled, reached out to brush his hand through Ginoza's hair. 

Ginoza smiled, leaned his head into Kougami's hand. "I'm sorry, I took this from your room." He held up the book.

"It's fine." Kougami kissed his forehead. "You can keep it. If you want."

Ginoza marked his page and set the book aside. "Kou?"

Kougami sat down, reached for his hand. "Gino, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone to Masaoka."

"I'm sorry, too. I overreacted. I just, I don't want him here. I don't want him trying to be in my life again. He made his decision."

Kougami leaned forward, kissed him, soft, chaste and gentle. "I know. I know and I'm sorry. What can I do to make it better?"

Ginoza didn't answer, not for a long time. He let his head rest on Kougami's shoulder, knees still pulled up to his chest, his whole body tilted forward toward's Kougami. "Just tell me. When you talk to him, about me, tell me."

Kougami nodded, rubbing his back, gentle. "I'll tell you. I promise."

The tea kettle clicked off, indicating the water had boiled, and Ginoza's shoulders shook in a tiny, silent laugh. "I had forgotten I made tea."

"Yeah. I know. I was going to make you another cup."

Ginoza smiled, and let Kougami kiss him. "It's okay, Kou. Just stay here a little while."

Kougami smiled, tugged him until Ginoza's long, skinny body unfolded, his head in Kougami's arm and his torso splayed across his lap. His other hand, he pushed through Ginoza's hair, kissed his forehead.

"I'm here." He whispered, holding Ginoza to him. "I'm here, and I'm staying."

Ginoza buried his face against Kougami, and Kougami breathed him in, held him close, let Ginoza latch on to him and take his peace from their embrace. And Kougami found peace in it himself. When it was just them, just this, their limbs a mess of arms and legs and their breathing, the beats of their hearts synced, Kougami knew he could finally find contentment. Cradling Ginoza in his arms, pressing idle kisses to his soft hair, there was no world outside of them, outside of Kou-and-Gino. No Sybil, no crime coefficients or hue checks or guns that talked back. It was just them. Just this moment. His lips found the shell of Ginoza's ear, pressed a kiss there. "I love you."

Ginoza sighed, bunched his long fingers in Kougami's suit jacket. "Don't go." His voice was so soft, Kougami wasn't sure his words were meant to be heard at all.

"I never want to leave. I want this to be the rest of my life, Nobuchika."

"People leave, Kou. People move on." Ginoza didn't look at him, his voice soft, dark bangs hiding his eyes, and Kougami knew better than to seek his expression. "Really, it's easy to leave someone behind. People do it all the time. They choose their work, or their beliefs, or sometimes it just becomes too hard. And they leave people behind." His last words were whispered, so soft Kougami could barely make them out. "You might. Eventually."

"I made my choice ages ago, back when you put it in my head to become an Inspector. I want to be where you are." Kougami promised, trying to show his conviction. He knew it probably wouldn't get through. Because people had been fleeting, transient notions of companionship to Ginoza. People he loved had left, with little explanation, and Kougami knew he had a lot of work to do to prove he was the exception. That he wanted to stay, he would do everything in his power to stay. That he wouldn't make a promise like that and not keep it.

But Ginoza just looked at him, finally looked at him, from behind the frames of glasses he used to hide. "How can you be so certain of yourself?"

"I don't know. I guess I'm not certain of myself. What I'm more certain of is where I want to be."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know next to nothing about Russian literature. I know according to the official profiling books, both of the authors mentioned in books Gino likes are Classic Russian authors, but I've never been able to get into the Classic Russian lit scene. So sorry if I did't get more into Gino's reading preferences. I'll be much better at the lit references if it's Kougami's taste. Or even Makishima's. Also, I know I gush a lot about compliments, but I also like constructive critique, so if I ever do anything wrong, or you want to make me aware of something, please, please do. I am always looking to improve as a writer.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, happy Father's Day, if you're in America. Have a mostly flashback update about Masaoka. I have the worst weak spot for the relationship between Ginoza and Masaoka. Because I completely understand both of them. And wow, thank you all for sticking with me for this long as this fic moves at a glacial pace. It means so much to me that so many people love it, and comment, and leave kudos, and talk to me on my tumblr (inconvenientplaces) and even the people who just read. And please, don't be nervous about leaving constructive criticism, or pointing out spelling or grammar errors, or telling me something you'd like to see more, or less of. I always want to improve.

_In it's place it grew_  
 _An angry festered wound filled with hatred and remorse_  
 _Where I pick and scratch until the blood it matched_  
 _The silent rage that now fills my lungs_  
-Flogging Molly, What's Left of the Flag

 

They had only been in Division one for seven months. Ginoza had put them up for the move, of course he had, it came with more allocation of resources, a bigger office, the possibility of more enforcers. Kougami had been content in Division three, but he wasn't about to leave Ginoza behind, and so he made sure the offer had been extended to him as well. But it had been extended to him with a warning, that he wasn't just being moved into a bigger office, offered more things. It would be extended to him with the expectation that he live up to it. That he keep an eye on his own coefficient, his own hue. Not just Ginoza's.

Two months after that, he had received a notice. An Enforcer from Division two, Masaoka Tomomi, had requested to be moved to Division one. Begged, even. And Kougami was told that it was his decision whether to bring the Enforcer on.

Ginoza took one look at the request and closed off entirely, told Kougami that if the Ministry of Welfare recommended him to the team, that was their decision to make.

"It doesn't make any difference to me which hunting dogs we take with us." He had snapped, turned away completely and refused to discuss it further. It was the first time Kougami had heard him call the Enforcers hunting dogs, and mean it with such cruelty. It certainly wouldn't be the last.

So Kougami took it on himself to go meet with the Enforcer. He knew the basic details about Masaoka, of course, had been in police work since before Sybil had integrated itself into law enforcement, demoted when Hue checks on public service members became mandatory rather than recommended. He'd been a skilled detective, and, for a short while, a skilled Inspector. The transfer application told him that much. PSB records told him how well regarded Masaoka had been. As an Enforcer, though, he was accused of insubordination, of overriding his Inspector's opinions and trying to solve cases on his own. He was accused of being too rough to work with the public, in and out of mandated Rehab facilities since the demotion, thrown around to different divisions until they found one who would work with him.

Kougami hadn't quite known what to expect.

Certainly it hadn't been an invitation to visit the Enforcer, sent by Masaoka himself. It hadn't been the clean, bright apartment, sunlight streaming through sheer curtains. The man himself, old enough to be Kougami's father, sat at an easel, perfectly calm, much more than PSB records and the other Inspectors had claimed. He stood when Kougami entered, wiped paint from his hands and jutted one out. "You're Inspector Kougami Shinya?"

"Yeah, that's me."

"Masaoka Tomomi. Thanks for meeting with me."

"I was going to ask you myself. You beat me to the punch."

"I take it you looked at my request." The man went to sit, poured himself a drink from a bottle of fine liquor on the coffee table. "Want one? I've got coffee too, if that's more your style."

Kougami held out his hand for the shot glass. "I'll have a drink. Thanks."

Masaoka smiled handed him the glass and gestured for him to sit. "Good man. So, what can I do for you?"

Kougami sat on the sofa, swirled the amber liquid around in his shot glass. "I need to know why you want to move to Division one. You seem to have found a good place in Division two, Inspectors who respect your experience, relative freedom. Why would you want to get away from that? I don't know if you've heard, but my partner in Division one isn't exactly fond of respecting the Enforcers under our care."

"Yeah, I know." Masaoka sat across from him, leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and looking down. "He's exactly why I need to be in Division one."

"I don't think you're going to be able to teach him to treat you like anything other than a hunting dog who can talk back." Kougami smiled, tense. He had known, even then, how Ginoza felt about the system. How little he cared for people labeled latent criminals. He had seen what having one for a father had done to Ginoza when he was small, and so Kougami couldn't bring himself to blame him for the effects it had.

"I don't need to." Masaoka drank, refilled his own shot glass.

"Then why?"

"Something I need to do."

"Yeah, I gathered that. Your transfer application was borderline desperate. What's so important about Inspector Ginoza anyway?"

And then he saw it. The look on Masaoka's face. The eyes. They way the older man held himself, as if hiding a flinch at the words. The resignation. The need in his transfer request. A small photo on the bookshelf, of a woman and an infant, tiny, both smiling for the camera. Masaoka's gaze flickered over to it, he sighed heavily.

"Fuck. You're his father, aren't you?" Kougami muttered, finishing his drink.

Masaoka nodded. "You should probably dismiss that transfer application. I'm sure you don't want to get caught up in the middle of all this."

"Why aren't you taking this up with him?"

"I wouldn't know what to say."

Kougami nodded, reached for the liquor bottle. "Neither would I."

"Has he looked at the transfer papers?"

"Not at any length. He glanced at them and pretty much told me it was my problem to handle."

"Didn't say anything about me?"

"No. I had no idea. I mean, I knew the basics, but not that you were here. Explains a lot actually."

"Yeah?"

Kougami just nodded. He couldn't offer more than that. It wasn't his place to say. "I'll move that transfer request through. We could use someone with experience in Division one. We're all too new at this."

"And you think he's going to accept me on your team?"

"I think, if nothing else, he'll accept your greater experience and what you can give Division one. Gino's pragmatic that way."

"Were that I had your confidence, Inspector."

"Are you removing your transfer request?"

Kougami watched Masaoka pour himself another drink, his remaining real hand shaking. "No, I'm not. I need to look after Nobuchika after all."

"We both do. He doesn't look after himself."

"Doesn't he?"

"Not really. He's too focused on his work to worry about himself much."

"What happened to him?" Masaoka asked, quietly.

Kougami gave him the dignity of pretending he hadn't heard. "Anyway, thanks for talking to me. You should be able to move to Division one within the week." He stood to leave, held his hand out to Masaoka.

"Inspector?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't, well, don't tell him I told you. I'm sure he's worried about this as it is. We haven't seen each other since he was nine, and I don't know how he's going to react."

Kougami sighed, nodded. And Masaoka shook his hand, went back to his painting easel. "Thank you, Inspector."

"Of course. I look forward to working with you." Kougami left, alone in the hallways with his thoughts. Ginoza had always claimed to hate his father, and everything he stood for. Hated that the man had cared little enough for his hue to abandon his family. Accused him of driving Ginoza's mother to take her own life. The things Ginoza admitted late at night, when he was exhausted, when Kougami offered him the alcohol he used to steal. He would scream and fight and hit Kougami and Kougami would let him, because if he didn't, if they passed a street scanner or let someone look too hard, then at least one of them would be taken away.

And even then he couldn't imagine being taken away from Ginoza.

Ginoza didn't even look at Masaoka for the first two days they were in Division one together. And he followed Kougami to the gym after work, sparred with him, quick and brutal and sparing him no consideration. He just needed to hit something, like when they were young, and Kougami was there. And he would let him. Kougami would pretend he couldn't hear him late at night. Crying, screaming himself raw, trying to find something that didn't hurt. And Kougami had wished he could tell him there was no finding relief from the pain when the pain wasn't physical. When it was the bone deep ache he knew Ginoza felt, that he had failed, that he was falling apart, that all the work he had done to prove he wasn't his father disappeared when he was faced with the man himself. Kougami had wished he could hold him close and tell him these things and try and help him make peace with it all. But all Kougami could do was cry with him, closed in his own room, smoking and wishing he could make it all go away. Wished he could find the parts of his friend who could still be saved.

The first time Kougami had hugged Ginoza had been to calm him down. It was their first real case with Masaoka on the team, a horrific murder scene, limbs and viscera thrown around the tiny studio apartment, and Masaoka had been playing his role, being the detective they needed. But something he said had set Ginoza off. Something tiny, so small Kougami could hardly remember it. A forgotten honorific, maybe, or a tone he had taken with one of the Inspectors. But Ginoza had pounced on the opportunity like prey, screaming at Masaoka like he screamed at himself. And Kougami had pulled him away, out into the hallway of the dirty building, and held him, fiercely tight. Even as Ginoza hit him, yelled, struggled against the grip. Even when he clenched his hands in his own hair, pulled, let his glasses slip from his face and clatter to the floor, Kougami just held him. Because there was nothing else he could do.

And finally, Ginoza had calmed. He had stopped fighting back. And he wiped his face, picked up his glasses and cleaned them with shaking hands. "Kougami?"

"Yeah?"

"What color am I?"

The question had shocked Kougami. Maybe because he had never bought too much into Sybil. To him, what had always been more important had been what he felt. As long as Kougami had been sure he was doing what was right,or even what was best, he stayed clear. Still, the way Ginoza was looking at him, the fear in those startling eyes, made Kougami raise his weapon. 

_Crime Coefficient seventy- five point two. Target is a registered Inspector with the MWPSB._

"Blue." Kougami smiled. "High, but not dangerously so. Just take a few deep breaths, you'll be okay."

And, in a way, he was. Masaoka let him rail against him, took the verbal abuse, let Ginoza take out the anger he'd held in for so long. And Kougami sparred against him, let him land blows that left bruises, smears of blood against Kougami's skin.

Because Ginoza Nobuchika was more important than any of them.

Especially when he was laying in Kougami's arms, had fallen asleep, his face pressed against Kougami's stomach, letting Kougami soothe him, push a hand through his soft hair, kiss his cheeks, his forehead, his brow. When he was like this, he was impossibly small, fragile, he needed to be saved. And Kougami knew he was capable of saving himself, Ginoza was strong, he had made it this far. There were times be was calmer, far more capable than Kougami. He could think about things rationally, detach himself from what he needed and think only about the work.

Well, at least until it all blew up in his face, and there was another breakdown. But Kougami was there, now, for him. To take the rage and the quiet moments and the detached brilliance and love Ginoza through them all, as long as he was able. Kougami would be steady against the crashing waves of his mind, be there when Ginoza thought that everyone would leave.

But they found the first plastic body in the morning, and Kougami didn't realize how close they were to the edge.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm late on the update schedule guys! I really have no excuse. Sometimes writing just doesn't happen. Probably because I decided to stay up until three in the morning playing Castlevania: Symphony of the Night in Japanese because I am a massive nerd. It happens. I'm sorry. But we're finally getting into plot here, so that's good. Right?

_Don't let numbers tell you what to do. You are blood and earth, not theory and chalk._  
\- Welcome to Night Vale, on twitter

 

They had slept in. At some point, Kougami had gotten up, carried Ginoza to the bed in Kougami's room and curled up around him. Seeing him sleep through the night was calming, gave Kougami some hope that his presence was helping. Might make this all a little easier.

But then his communicator was going off, demanding attention, and Ginoza was up again, alert, reaching for his glasses and groaning in frustration when he realized they were in the living room where he had fallen asleep. Kougami got up, brought them to him. Just so he could see the soft smile he got when Ginoza took them, and let his hand rest in Kougami's a moment too long.

He wasn't allowed any more affection than that, though. Ginoza was barking orders into his communicator like he had been born to do so, at his most natural when he was in charge. Kougami knew it was all for show, of course he knew. He had been allowed to see Ginoza fall apart, and he had fallen in love for the display. He liked to think they were all real facets of his lover, the competence, the strength he showed working, his analytical mind just as real as the times he broke down, let Kougami be his support. Just as real as the times his eyes would soften and he would kiss Kougami, still learning where his hands should go when he did. Because he wanted to love Ginoza in all those moments. He wanted them all to be real.

And then he was being rushed to get ready, a traveler cup of coffee being shoved into his hands, pulled out the door with little explanation. Just that they found a body. That no one knew what to do with it. Kougami was still damp from a frantic shower when they herded the Enforcers into a wagon, the crime scene already plugged into the automatic drive.

Kougami pulled up the report while they drove, pretending not to notice how quiet Ginoza was. The body was grotesque, turned to plastic and assembled into a macabre art form in a public park, and maybe that had shaken him. It would rattle most people. But maybe it was an extension of the things he had confessed the night before, his fear of being left behind. Kougami thought maybe he wasn't supposed to know about that. Ginoza hadn't meant to tell him. It had slipped out, perhaps, in a moment of weakness and now they were both suffering the consequences.

They would both pretend it was just the case, all the same.

And it was horrific. Kunizuka had stopped dead in her tracks the second she left the wagon, and Kougami stood beside her, rested his hand on her shoulder. It was only her second day, and they were stuck staring at this. At a victim strung up and splayed out and taken apart, reassembled into something completely inhuman. But so human, at the same time. Every element of a human being was there, disassembled and drained and painted to be some sort of a display. A work of art.

Sasayama was retching onto the sidewalk, Masaoka stood beside him to offer comfort, or to help him be stable enough to work through this. Ginoza didn't react at all. He merely approached the body, scanned it, began making notes about the composition, photographs so that drones could begin the process of cleaning away the disaster. And Kougami let the enforcers have a few more minutes to gather themselves, set them to holo costumes and orders to control the crowd. To keep them from looking, if at all possible. The last thing Kougami wanted to deal with was an area stress level spike. The fewer people saw this thing, the better.

Out of curiosity, he raised his weapon, scanned Ginoza. And he wasn't sure he wanted to know, but he saw all the same. Despite the horrors, Ginoza was running completely clear. He was utterly calm, taking stock of the corpse strewn before them.

"Gino?"

"Yes?"

"Have we got everything we need here? We kind of need the body out of the view of passers-by."

Ginoza looked at him, and understanding flickered belatedly across his face. "I think we do. But we still need to go over the surrounding areas. And get street scanner information for the last twenty-four hours. Take Sasayama and Masaoka back to base and get in touch with Karanomori. She'll get the scanners, and you three can start going over the information we've already amassed."

"Masaoka should stay at the scene. He's got a better eye than any of us. Sasayama and I will go back, the three of you stay here."

Ginoza considered it a moment. He had gotten used to being able to avoid Masaoka, and Kougami knew that. Kougami also knew better than to leave just the two of them at a crime scene. Hopefully the new girl would serve as a buffer zone. 

"Fine." Ginoza dismissed. "Sasayama should get out of here anyway. We all heard his reaction to the body."

Kougami grimaced. "Right. Can I take the car?"

"I'll go back with the Enforcers in the wagon. It's fine, Kou." Ginoza reached out, brushed his fingers against the back of Kougami's hand. "I'll send anything we find your way."

Kougami smiled at the touch, however small it was, resisted the urge to seek more from him. They'd have time, later. Or Kougami would make the time.

"Sasayama! You and me are going back to get street scanner data while the others search the crime scene." Kougami called, opening the car door and tossing Sasayama his cigarettes.

The enforcer sunk into the passenger seat, lighting a cigarette and exhaling in a long sigh. "Did I get us kicked off the crime scene?"

"Nah. Just need to be working this case. It's pretty awful, can't have something like that show up again. Better to split up, get a head start on the technical stuff."

"And Gino sent me off with you because I took one look at that thing and lost it."

"Well, wasn't healthy for you to be there, obviously." Kougami teased, taking his cigarettes back. "That really the worst one you've seen?"

"Yeah." Sasayama shrugged, propping his boots on the dashboard of the car. "Easily the worst stiff I've seen."

"Sorry." Kougami offered, lighting his own cigarette and leaning against the window as the car drove itself.

"You'd think I'd be ready for it by now."

"Don't know if anyone ever is."

"Gino was. You remember the first time he had to pull a lethal trigger. Guy didn't even blink. Scared the shit out of me."

Kougami distinctly remembered that. He remembered the heat, sticky even in the middle of the night, the woman registered dark enough in a scan to throw his Dominator into Lethal Eliminator. Kougami had hesitated. He knew the job might necessitate taking human life, but, faced with the reality of it, he wasn't sure he could.

Ginoza hadn't hesitated even a split second. The light had shot past Kougami's field of vision, straight to the woman, the murderer they were told to bring to justice. And she had come apart right in front of him in a splatter of what was once a human body. And the entire time Ginoza had been cold, calculating, completely in charge of the situation.

Back then, Kougami hadn't wanted to think about it too hard.

"We do what we have to."

There was a long pause, Sasayama lighting another cigarette, taking in the words.

"Hey, Kou?"

"What's up?"

"You and Gino, you're a thing these days, aren't you?"

"Guess so. Don't see how it's relevant."

"It's not. Just have no idea what you see in him is all. I mean, aside from the obvious."

Kougami breathed a laugh, snatched his cigarettes back. "The obvious?"

"Well, he's pretty. But he's also mean, and mildly creepy. And got this whole sick weird superiority complex, I mean did something crawl up his ass and die there or something? And he pretty much lives at work. Bonus points there's the whole not eating not sleeping surviving purely off of spite thing." Sasayama shrugged. "I mean, and you're cool. For an Inspector. You actually treat me like a person."

"Yeah, well, you are a person. But he's also brilliant, and surprisingly affectionate. And funny, in a dry sort of way when he wants to be. And you're right about one thing. He is really fucking pretty." Kougami smiled, he knew he must look lovesick and absurd, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Shit. You really fell for him, didn't you?"

"Guess so." Kougami sighed, parked the car and held the elevator for Sasayama to follow.

"I mean, it's great and all, you're obviously happy. And Gino hasn't yelled at me or the old man in a couple days at least, so I guess he's happy. But Kunizuka said you two were fighting yesterday. And Gino's got a crazy temper on him." He shrugged, stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I dunno. None of my business I guess."

"Yeah it is. If something goes wrong with me and Gino it could have implications for the team, since we all work so close together. Kunizuka reminded me of that yesterday."

"She's good. Glad we snagged her for Division one." Sasayama smiled, crookedly. "I think Shion's pretty glad too, considering the way they looked at each other."

"Her and Karanomori, really?" Kougami smiled, scanning into the building.

"I hope so." Sasayama's lazy grin turned lecherous.

Kougami groaned, swatted him in the arm. "Gross."

"Yeah, you go in for guys now. Or is it just Gino?"

"I don't even know." Kougami rolled his eyes. "Come on. We have to get those street scanner records."

Karanomori was forthcoming with information, even dealt with Sasayama's flirting, though she certainly didn't encourage him. And when they got back with the records downloaded to Kougami's tablet, the others were settling into the office once more, quiet, almost strained.

"What have we got?" Kougami asked, choosing to ignore the atmosphere.

"Nothing. Also some serious unresolved shit between those two." Kunizuka bit out, nodding to Masaoka, Ginoza in turn.

"Yeah, well, get used to that one." Sasayama leaned back in his chair. "Gino's been on the old man since he joined up."

Kougami sat beside Ginoza at his desk, held his hand out. "What happened?"

"The enforcers are not supposed to run off on their own." Ginoza had affected a completely blank tone, and somehow that was more violent than anything else.

"It was my fault, Inspector." Masaoka offered to Kougami, taking the street scanner records from Sasayama. "I went after a lead without consulting Inspector Ginoza first. Worst thing was, turned out to be nothing."

Ginoza stood, barely containing anger. "I'll be back in a moment." He dismissed, rushing out the door.

Kougami sunk into his chair. "World's not going to end down here if I go talk to him, yeah?"

"You should." Kunizuka smiled. "I'll make sure these two don't break anything."

He found Ginoza on an upper floor balcony, leaning on the railing, staring at the snowy landscape of the city spread out beneath him. Back turned, he was a dark silhouette against the white coating the buildings, long and slender, like an old black and white film still. And Kougami stopped short, sure that barging into the scene with his usual lack of tact or care would break some unspoken silence, some moment Ginoza was taking alone with his thoughts. Kougami shouldn't even be there, he knew that. He was intruding on a moment he was not privy to. He had left the inspectors alone. Ginoza would tear him a new one for that.

But he couldn't just leave the man he loved standing alone out in the cold with his own racing mind. He leaned on the railing beside him, took his hand. "Nobuchika."

"I wasn't made for this, Shinya."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The intro quote for this chapter was almost the Welcome to Night Vale line "Let us not dwell on our corpse strewn past. Let's celebrate our corpse strewn future!" But I decided that was a little mean, even for me.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I'm terrible and I'm late again and I'm sorry. I still have no excuse. Mostly I've just been on a Castlevania kick and it's distracting because that shit was my fandom before I knew what fandoms were and so yeah. Distractions. Anyways, I'm here, I'm on tumblr at inconvenientplaces, and I love talking about this fic, any fics, and Psycho Pass. Because this fandom is kind of incredible. And so is every single person who reads this.

_In any which direction_  
 _Call me I will run for you_  
 _I'll come for you_  
 _I'll die for you_  
 _I'll come for you._  
\- We Were Promised Jetpacks, Quiet Little Voices

Kougami stilled. Wasn't made for this? For what? For the job? For them, for this still new burning intense relationship? For the detective work and the Sybil system and this world? Because no one was made for that. It was just something you adapted to, because the alternative was strange and chaotic and untested.

"I, I don't follow." He looked at Ginoza, hiding behind a tailored suit, long bangs and glasses he didn't need.

"I pushed, so hard, Kou. To get into the Ministry of Welfare. To prove I could be better than him. I wasn't made for it. Everyone said so, except you." He squeezed Kougami's hand, just for the reassurance it provided. "But they were right. I wasn't cut out to do this. It's too much. I pushed myself too hard to be someone I don't know that I am."

"This is because of Masaoka, isn't it?"

"I derailed the investigation because I lost my temper with him." Ginoza bit out, pulling his hand away.

"We can have him transferred out, you know." Kougami offered. He knew that wasn't the whole of it. It was putting a bandage on a festering wound. A quick fix, but whatever was inside was still rotting away.

"No. I need to learn to deal with this." 

Kougami reached out for him. "You shouldn't have to. No one should have to deal with all this."

Ginoza stepped into his arms, rested his head on Kougami's shoulder. Took comfort where it was offered.

"You were cut out for this. Hell, you're good at it. Better at the data and management and all that than I am. Sometimes, when we're working a case, I'm just an idiot with intuition and a gun. You're the one who's in charge. You're the one who doesn't let all the violence get to you. Should have seen yourself out there today. You're the only one who could deal with that crime scene."

Ginoza's hands clenched into fists at his sides, he didn't hold Kougami, didn't speak.

So Kougami just held him, feeling the slender forms of muscles under his jacket, trembling slightly as he fought to keep himself in check. To keep clear. To buy into this system of colors and numbers and data, because Ginoza understood facts. Kougami had known that from the beginning. He understood facts, numbers, rational thought. It was why he broke down like this, he couldn't understand himself. He couldn't fathom despair. Ginoza was an irrational, flawed human being just like the rest of them, and he couldn't understand that. He couldn't rationalize away how he felt.

"We should, um, we should head back. You left the Enforcers alone." Ginoza muttered, stepping away, cleaning his glasses.

"They can handle themselves. You needed me." Kougami leaned forward, kissed his cheek before he could put his glasses back on.

Ginoza sighed, rolled his eyes. "Don't make a habit of it, Inspector." Still, he couldn't hide the smallest hint of a smile, signs he was recovering.

Kougami had to kiss that smile before it, too, faded away.

Because Ginoza had collected himself by the time they reached the office. He was cold again, hidden away and focused. Avoiding eye contact, pulled into himself. He focused instead on the work, on organizing the evidence, cataloging photos of the body that had been taken down for study.

"Kougami, would you go down to the lab? Karanomori's still working on the victim's body, she might have some information we need." Ginoza asked.

"Oh, yeah. Of course." He hesitated, because it meant leaving Ginoza's side. Meant leaving him small and vulnerable and hiding from the near break he'd just left behind. But he had to believe Ginoza was capable. Wasn't broken.

Karanomori was in her office, half lab, half computer room, letting a small drone run scans on the torso of the body they had recovered, relaxed into her desk chair.

"Aw, Inspector Kougami's decided to grace us with his presence once again." She teased, standing.

"Just need to see what you've gotten from the corpse."

"Quid pro quo, Kougami. I have questions for you."

"Are you going to ask me about Inspector Ginoza too?"

"News travels fast around here. And you defrosted the ice queen."

"You all really think he's that bad, don't you?"

"Well, he's not exactly nice."

Kougami rolled his eyes. "He warms up."

"If you're not a latent criminal." She dismissed, making a note on the autopsy papers. "So how is he?"

"How do you mean?"

"Well I assume you've had him." Karanomori smirked. "Must have been worth it, I mean, you're putting up with that personality."

Kougami scoffed. "My turn. What have we found out about this guy?"

"No positive ID yet, but he's mid fifties, well off, overweight, and gutted and turned to plastic. He died two days ago, because of the plastination process and the dismemberment, I haven't been able to pin down a cause of death. And if not for the rain messing with the environment holo, we wouldn't have found him. Most likely would have had another week before routine maintenance found him. I'll send a note up once we have an ID, and I'm getting street scanner data in from the area as we speak. I don't think we're going to get much, though. The scanners have been on the fritz all week. I'm guessing whoever did this planned that."

Kougami nodded. "How long before we get an ID on the victim?"

"No idea. I mean, all I have is a skull. And the fingerprints were burned off. I'm going to have to go through dental records. So have you fucked him?"

Kougami coughed. "What?"

"Inspector Ginoza. Have you fucked him?"

"No, but I hardly see how that's appropriate to ask."

"It's not. But I wanted to know anyway."

"How long on the dental records?"

"Tomorrow, if we're lucky. Might actually get it if you get your boyfriend to request an expedite on the order."

"Yeah. He'll do that." Kougami sat down in a stool, watched her. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure. But I'm not going to help you fuck him."

"That's not- I wasn't- I mean I don't even know if he wants me to fuck him."

"Well that's your first problem. But what were you going to ask?"

"I want him to know I love him. But he's not romantic, he wouldn't want flowers or big showy signs of affection. But he needs to know. He's still scared I'm going to give up on him."

"So you're asking me for relationship advice." Karanomori set to cataloging every one of the body parts laid out on her work table. "What to do to reassure him you're all head over heels in love with the creepy bastard."

"Ugh, you and Sasayama both. He's not creepy."

"You have seen the way he glares at people, right? If looks could kill." Karanomori smiled all the same. "Find something he likes. Or share something you love with him. Make him feel like you want him to be a part of your life."

Kougami nodded, leaned back in the chair and lit a cigarette. "Get me the request for dental records, and I'll have him sign them, send them in from his account."

"I can do that." She dismissed, continuing to make notes, storing each of the parts of the corpse separately, labeled. "Have you taken him out on a date yet?"

"Sort of?" He thought of sitting in the park, in the rain, the way Ginoza leaned on him, the soft, almost faraway peace of that afternoon.

She rolled her eyes. "You're off this evening, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Date night. Something nice. If you're worried about him not having faith in you staying, you should be putting some effort in."

"I don't date. I wouldn't know what to do."

"Yeah, I haven't been on a proper date in years." She groaned. "Just do something for him. That's my advice."

Karanomori held out her hand, and Kougami offered her his cigarettes, watched her light one and exhale in one long, tired sigh. "Now get out of here." She said, "I need a break after all that dismemberment and relationship talk."

Kougami took his time getting back to the office, not sure what to do, or say, or if there was anything that could be done. He leaned on the same balcony where he had held Ginoza, cigarette between his fingers slowly fading to ash in the snow. 

Kougami was imperfect. He knew that. He was rough around the edges, smoked too much, got too obsessed too quickly, too easily. And for the moment, that obsession was with Ginoza. With staying near him, with keeping him safe and comfortable, with those moments when Ginoza would relax, let himself be kissed and kiss in return. Kougami obsessed with the feel of Ginoza's soft hair in his own calloused fingers, the smoothness of his skin, pale eyes half lidded when Kougami pulled away from holding him just this side of too close.

And Kougami did hold him too close. He kissed too hard, pushed for too much, asked more than Ginoza was willing to give. Kougami didn't do anything half-hearted, it stood to reason that he would love so deep it pushed away the object of his affections. Obsessions, maybe. But all he wanted to do was to keep the man he loved. And to do that, he had to keep Ginoza happy, calm, clear and stable. 

He flicked the butt of his cigarette over the railing and wondered if he might be too blunt and instrument for that.

Ginoza was still working when Kougami finally came back, the room was silent, the Enforcers didn't look up when he sat at Ginoza's desk.

"Did Karanomori send you a request for dental records on the corpse?"

"I already signed it and sent it to the chief."

"She sent you her findings too, yeah?"

"She did. She's surprisingly thorough."

"Then why did you have me go there myself?"

"You're observant. She might have missed something." Ginoza moved slightly closer to Kougami, looked away from his work for a moment. "I should stay here tonight. This case is big. Needs more work than we have hours in our shift."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Kou. You can go ahead and go home, if you want. I'll stay here and work."

Kougami reached out, took his hand. And the gesture wasn't denied. Ginoza's hand turned, wrapped around his, soft, long fingers delicate.

"Come with me, Gino. We can work in the morning, when you've rested some."

"You rest. I'll be fine."

Kougami groaned. "Right, then." He stood to leave, turned to Kunizuka. "Hey. Make sure he doesn't work himself to death, right?"

She looked up, nodded. "I'll do my best, Inspector."

Their apartment was dark, the bag of gifts Masaoka had given still by the door, Ginoza's book on the table where he had set it aside. The apartment was full of him, inescapable, his presence had even leaked into Kougami's room, a discarded shirt, the scent of his shampoo in the pillow when Kougami laid down. He got up, paced, smoked, but nothing helped. That case was still in his head. Ginoza's perfect calm in reaction to the corpse. His fear of failure.

That body, faceless and taken apart.

His mind worked against him, replaced the head with Ginoza, wide eyed and pale. His perfect features matched well to the doll like plastic of the corpse. It was just like the bombings, a distraction, how easy it was to imagine Ginoza being hurt. He had to trust himself, the others, to protect him. He had to trust Ginoza to protect himself.

Kougami sat on the floor under the window, the city outside was silent with snowfall. Ginoza had always liked winter. Kougami never did. He found the cold, the quiet oppressive and isolating. Ginoza called it calming. Kougami liked warmer weather, signs of life that poked through the artifice of the city. But tonight, the snow was soothing. Tonight, the silence lulled him to sleep.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey look who actually made a timely update! All the movie stuff has me super enthused about this again and I love it. And I get so much love for this, both here and at inconvenientplaces on tumblr, and that really keeps me going. So thanks. You're all amazing.

_Weep, little lion man,_  
 _You're not as brave as you were at the start_  
 _Rate yourself and rake yourself_  
 _Take all the courage you have left_  
 _And waste it on fixing all the problems that you made in your own head_  
\- Mumford and Sons, Little Lion Man

 

Kougami jolted from his sleep when he felt something warm settle beside him, looked over to see Ginoza, pale and worn, curled up against his side. The digital clock on the control panel informed him it was just past four in the morning, and snow was piling up in the windowsill.

"Hey." Kougami whispered, slipping his arm around Ginoza and pulling the skinny man closer to him.

Ginoza made a soft sound, his head falling to Kougami's shoulder. He was mostly asleep, still in his suit, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. Kougami smiled, soft, leaned in and kissed him, scooped his whole long body into his arms and brought him to Ginoza's own bedroom.

Kougami had never been in his bedroom before. Ginoza was private, and he hadn't felt allowed. It was pristine, perfectly cleaned, suits hung in the closet in an identical row. And plants. Four of them, sitting in the window, small but thriving. That part surprised him, that Ginoza would keep something so clearly without purpose or reason. But it suited him all the same, the tiny signs of life, so cared for. A single bookshelf was tucked into a corner, history and law, nothing fiction, and a photo. Himself, and Kougami when they were accepted into the Ministry of Welfare. He remembered taking that photo, a classmate had taken it for them, and Kougami and Ginoza both had their arms slung around each other, smiling wide and bright and hopeful. So much had changed in so little time.

Ginoza was awake, barely, when Kougami set him down on the bed, and Kougami knelt over him, drew him into another kiss as his hands, calloused and rough and trying so hard to be gentle pulled Ginoza's jacket off, loosened his tie, set his glasses aside. And he gave in to the kiss, warm and intimate and lingering in each movement, let Kougami ease him back to the bed, and curled close when Kougami laid down, leaving the tie and the jacket on the floor, unbuttoned a few of the top buttons on Ginoza's shirt. He didn't mean to expose him, merely wanted him comfortable enough to rest. Soft, warm with sleep, Ginoza leaned close, kissed him again, settled against Kougami and wound tight around him.

Kougami laid there, immobilized by Ginoza's slight form holding on to him, fast asleep. But still, he smiled, tilted his head so his nose brushed against Ginoza's soft hair, breathed in his presence. He had come home. He was resting. He wasn't taking a nap on the sofa in the PSB rec room and going right back to work, as Kougami had seen him do time and time again. Maybe it wasn't much, but it was better to know he would sleep a few hours here. That he wanted to be where Kougami was. Because when he had come home, he had settled beside Kougami. He hadn't gone to his own room, hadn't grabbed a tablet and continued working. He had gone to Kougami, sought him for comfort and care. It made him hold Ginoza closer. 

Sleep didn't find him again. He lay in the cold, dark room, wrapped blankets around himself, around Ginoza, sleeping so deep, holding tight to Kougami, and hoped to rest again. But he couldn't. His mind was racing around the case, around the deep, tangible exhaustion that had wound around Ginoza like smoke. What that might have meant. Maybe the case had moved. Maybe they had found nothing, and the search was wearing thin on him. Maybe he had fought with Masaoka again.

Kougami shifted the sleeping body in his arms, lay on his side. The digital photo frame, the single photo within, glowed faint and warm on the bookshelf, a memory of happier times. When they both thought this was going to work. Kougami had held delusions of making a difference. Of saving people. They weren't called in, often, until there was no one who could be saved. And there were people who didn't want to be saved. People who lived on the fringes of society, scorned the idea of the Sybil system, who had once attacked his team on a distance assignment. He was glad, in hindsight, that Ginoza hadn't been there. He remembered wondering if they had made a point. If, perhaps, people could be better off with the free will that Sybil didn't offer. Ginoza would have hated that line of thinking. He would have worried that it would cloud Kougami's hue, end in Kougami being taken away.

Quietly, Kougami resolved to himself that even if he did get too dark, he would find a way to come back. To stay by Ginoza.

He whispered his promise where he lay, tracing his fingertips along Ginoza's soft features, watching dreams move under his eyelids. He wondered what Ginoza dreamed of. If he dreamed like Kougami did, of hopelessness and places they would never see. If Kougami was in his dreams. Or if he dreamed of happier times, of the laughter in that photo, or his childhood, before he had been left behind. If there were photos of Ginoza when he was young, Kougami had never seen them. The oldest was a photo Kougami had, the two of them on a school trip, at fourteen. Ginoza's smile in that photo was faint, tired. The way he smiled now.

He didn't know if Ginoza had been a happy child. Masaoka claimed he was. But that could be the rose tinted memories of a man who hadn't been allowed to see his son grow up.

Ginoza shifted, a small sound escaping him as he closed his hand in Kougami's shirt, tucking close against him but not waking. Kougami held him closer, pressed a kiss to his forehead, a soft shushing sound, trying to soothe him. His dreams had turned to nightmares, and Kougami sought to wake him, nudging his shoulder, gently pulling at the hand that was clenched tight in Kougami's shirt.

"Nobuchika, Nobuchika. Wake up, love." He pleaded, pressing kisses to his cheek.

Ginoza slowly blinked awake, eyes dim and still lost, he let Kougami cradle him, and kiss his cheeks, his forehead, his lips.

"Bad dream?" Kougami asked, gentle, meeting his eyes.

"I, um, I'm sorry." Ginoza whispered, looked away. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing." Kougami hugged him tight, buried his face in Ginoza's shoulder. "You can talk to me."

Ginoza sat up, brushed his hands through his overlong hair and sighed. "It's just this case. It's getting to me. And we didn't get anywhere tonight with it, and I had to get out of there. It was all too much."

Kougami pushed himself to sit up in the bed, took Ginoza's hand in his own. "It's fine. You're fine." He tried to sound reassuring, tried to be stable for Ginoza, something he could hold on to. It wasn't fine, and it wasn't going to be fine, but, for the moment, they could pretend.

"Kou, I can't get it out of my head." Ginoza leaned forward into him, hands coming up to Kougami's chest. "We have almost no evidence, and you saw that scene. Whoever killed him knew what they were doing. They'll kill again."

Kougami pulled Ginoza to him, grabbed the tablet from beside Ginoza's bed. Ginoza wasn't going to rest again, that much was clear, the case was getting into both their heads and sleep would be hard to come by. Ginoza settled into his side, pulled up the case information and flipped the holo on so it showed in front of them.

"Division two is sorting through the security camera footage in the area."

"Karanomori mentioned it was down."

"The usable footage, I mean. The cameras in that area have been undergoing repair the last couple weeks, but there's some viable footage. That's what they're working with. If we can get even a lead out of that, it will be more than we've had."

"Well, it's something." Kougami scrolled through the available information, his other arm close around Ginoza, running his fingers along his slender waist. "No word from them, though."

Ginoza nodded, his head moving against Kougami's shoulder where it rested. "Nothing yet. But they might not be through with the footage. Karanomori's report says the body was two days old, and they're going through three weeks of footage. They might not have gotten to it."

Kougami considered the information presented. The case had been categorized, broken down into information easier to handle. The shock of the corpse had worn off, and photos didn't do justice to the horror that had been the plastic body. He could almost handle it.

Glancing out the corner of his eye, he saw Ginoza was still completely calm. He said the case was getting to him, and his nightmares would back up that claim, but he looked at the information like it was nothing. Maybe it bothered him a lot more than he showed. It seemed likely. So he held Ginoza closer, as if his presence helped. And maybe it did. After all, he was what Ginoza sought when he was tired, worn and upset. He was the one who made him laugh. He moved the tablet and just held Ginoza, tucked his face against him, breathed him in. Kept his breaths slow and even, an example for Ginoza to follow when he forgot how to breathe from the stress or the fear or the anger. Kougami stayed calm, because someone had to. He was terrified, but it couldn't show. He hurt, but it couldn't show. Because someone had to keep breathing so that Ginoza remembered how.

"Gino?" He asked, soft, one hand threading in his soft hair.

"Kou?"

"You're not on shift tomorrow, are you?"

Ginoza sat back, cross legged, facing Kougami. "I was going to go in all the same, pick up where the other Inspectors left off."

"Take the morning off. Come out with me. I'll show you where all my books come from." He smiled, hoped it was reassuring. Karanomori had suggested involving him in something Kougami loved, show him that he wanted Ginoza in his life.

Ginoza nodded, quickly. "I suppose I could. If we don't get any alerts between now and then."

Kougami grinned, leaned forward and kissed him. "It's a date. We can stop at a cafe, have breakfast and coffee, and I'll take you looking for books. We might not find anything, but you said you wanted to go, right?"

"I'd like that." Ginoza's voice was soft, but he leaned into the kiss like something touch starved.

So Kougami held on to him, cradled his face in one hand and kept kissing him, again and again until he felt Ginoza give in, his body relax. 

"We should get a bit more sleep, then." Kougami suggested, tried to keep his voice gentle.

Ginoza shook his head no, reached over and grabbed the tablet again. "Sleep if you want. I'm going to look over this again."

"Gino, please." Kougami tried to take the tablet. "Rest. Take care of yourself. The work will still be there in the morning."

"Do you not want to see this solved before we have another body like that?" Ginoza snapped, pulling away from him.

"It's not that. I care more about you than another victim, yes, but you said it yourself. We have almost no evidence."

"Absence of evidence is, in and of itself, evidence. We have to look at what was removed."

Kougami couldn't argue, so climbed out of the bed, held his hand out to Ginoza. "Alright. Come on, then. I'll make us some tea and we can look at this again."

Ginoza sighed, took his hand, got up. "Thank you Kou."

"Hey, I can't stop you from working. At least I can make you comfortable. Try and help, you know?"

He was granted a small smile for his efforts, and Ginoza followed him to the main room of the small flat, leaned against the small counter separating the living room from the tiny kitchen.

"What do you think of the case, Kou?" He asked, watching intent.

"I think you're right. Whoever did it is going to kill again. And we need to stop them before we do. Area stress went up two levels when people started noticing the body, and it would only get worse if it ended up in the news. And it's probably going to be a hard one to solve without compromising someone's Hue. So I'm glad it's on us, because we've got each other to make sure we stay stable." Kougami tried to choose his words carefully, to not let his worry show.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm late. Again. And this chapter is pretty much nothing but sex with feelings. So, um, explicit material warning. Sorry. But thanks for every single tiny bit of love I get, even if it's just a view, or kudos, or anything, really. Means so much to know this is getting love. (PS. This chapter didn't get as much editing as I try to give my work, so if there's anything wrong, please point it out. I won't be hurt.)

_Though nothing_  
 _Will keep us together_  
 _We can beat them_  
 _For ever and ever_  
 _Oh, we can be heroes_  
 _Just for one day_  
\- David Bowie, Heroes

They worked through the night, Kougami stayed close to Ginoza, hands on him when he could. There wasn't much evidence, like Ginoza had told him, but details were trickling in. 

Kougami fell asleep, resting on the sofa against Ginoza's chest, curled tight. He hadn't meant to sleep, but Ginoza was dealing with the reports on the chemical composition of the plastic, the lists and technical details had exhausted him. And Ginoza had run a hand through his hair, reflexively, encouraged Kougami to relax. 

He woke to soft music, Ginoza had earbuds in, was still working. His long legs were straddled around Kougami, one hand was on his shoulder, his elegant fingers moving along Kougami's strong arm. He knew Ginoza was still working, knew he hadn't slept for the case, but he had to be content with the fact that Ginoza had relaxed. He had come home. And that would have to be enough.

Kougami let Ginoza continue to think he was asleep, breathing deep and even, reveled in the feeling of Ginoza's soft hand, long fingers. In the dim beat of the music. He felt Ginoza's heartbeat against his ear, realized his fingers were moving to music Kougami could barely hear. It was a quiet moment, peaceful despite the work that had occupied his night. Kougami shifted, and Ginoza pressed a soft kiss to his hair, breathed deep.

"Kou, rest. It's been hard enough." He whispered, a pain in his voice that Kougami never wanted to hear again. The pain he showed when he thought Kougami couldn't hear. He couldn't just pretend to sleep through something like that. So he grasped tighter to Ginoza, held on.

"Kou?" Ginoza asked, soft.

"Good morning." Kougami grumbled, smiled as he sat up, leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of Ginoza's lips. Ginoza brought his fingers to Kougami's jaw, kissed him again.

Kougami pulled the earbuds out, brought one to his own ear. The music Ginoza had chosen was quiet, somber and sad. Kougami didn't recognize it. But Ginoza turned off the music, set the tablet aside, kissed Kougami again.

"Get anywhere on the case?"

"Karanomori's trying to track the chemicals used to make the plasticine. Other than that, nothing."

Kougami nodded, ordering the apartment computer to make coffee for them, and returned to laying against Ginoza. "I guess that's something. Right?"

Ginoza nodded, running his hand through Kougami's hair, held the stronger man to him. "It's something."

He breathed in deep, taking in the peace of being held, buried his nose against the base of Ginoza's throat, let his eyes close. "Enough to let you relax for a few hours?"

"I thought you wanted to go out."

"I do. But that's supposed to be relaxing."

"I think it will be." Ginoza smiled, soft, Kougami could feel his breath against Kougami's messy hair.

"So we can still go out?" Kougami smiled hopeful and bright.

"In a little bit. For now, I like you here."

"Here?" Kougami teased, kissed his jaw.

Ginoza smiled, soft, kissed him. "Right here." He whispered, in their shared breath.

Kougami sat up, leaned in and returned the kiss, lingering and warm, his hands moving over Ginoza's skinny arms. He felt Ginoza's mouth open to him and kept kissing, drew Ginoza's lower lip between his teeth and nipped at it, teasing. And Kougami grinned.

Ginoza took a moment, his eyes half lidded, before he smiled back. "Kou." He breathed, moving in for another kiss.

"Mm. Yes?"

Ginoza kissed him, hands clenched in the front of Kougami's shirt, drew him down close to Ginoza's warm, thin body.

So Kougami moved the collar of Ginoza's shirt, wrinkled from their rest, and latched on to the place where his throat met his shoulder, sucking and nipping at the smooth skin, he meant to leave a mark. His mark. A sign that no one else could see, but every time Ginoza adjusted his collar, moved those elegant shoulders, Kougami would know. His hand threaded into Ginoza's soft hair, clenched, tugged gently at it, kisses moving wet and open mouthed over his throat and jaw. Each kiss drew a soft sound, a moan from Ginoza, and Kougami reveled in the sounds, in the heat radiating off his body.

"Can I have you?" Kougami asked, his hands hesitating at the buttons of his shirt.

"Shinya?" Ginoza sought his eyes, his own soft, darkened.

"Hm?" Kougami smiled, pressed a quick, chaste kiss to his lips.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I want you. I want to make love to you." Kougami returned the kiss, more intimate than the one he had been granted. And Ginoza tilted back, allowed Kougami to unbutton the rest of his shirt, pressing kisses to his throat, his jaw, his collar. "Please, Nobuchika, let me love you."

"Kou, yes." Ginoza breathed, his hands moving over Kougami's shoulders, restless and shaking. 

"Yes?" Kougami confirmed, eyes flickering up to Ginoza's expression.

"Yes, please." Ginoza's dark green eyes met his, pale face flush with want.

Kougami leaned up, kissed him. "And then we can go out?"

"And then we can go out." He echoed, returned the kiss with equal want.

Kougami slipped Ginoza's shirt from his shoulders, hands moving over his sides, his waist, rough fingers against soft skin. Ginoza arched, and Kougami's lips moved down his collar to his chest, brushed over one peaked nipple.

Ginoza breathed Kougami's name, a soft "Shinya" dark with lust, wanting. This was nothing like the last time, there was no hesitance in the way Ginoza moved, as if he could press his whole slender body into Kougami, hands slipped under the hem of Kougami's shirt and pressed up, wanting him undressed just as much as Kougami wanted to strip Ginoza bare, breathe him in, devour him. It was the culmination of his obsessions, dark, almost violent. His fingertips pressed rough against Ginoza's pale skin, deep enough to leave marks, to bruise that perfect skin, just as he wanted. And Ginoza gasped in, moaned soft, his legs wrapped around Kougami's body, hands clutched at his shoulders, his whole body was a plea for more.

And Kougami would grant him more. His hands found Ginoza's hips, pulled him up so they were pressed flush against each other, so Ginoza could feel the whole of Kougami's arousal, as if that were enough to explain everything he felt in that moment. He kissed open mouthed wherever his lips landed, on his chest, his waist, the hollow of his stomach where he was still rail thin, despite his strength. Kougami could feel his muscles with every gasping, staggered breath Ginoza took, each exhale forming Kougami's name, "Kou, Kou, Shinya, please."

Kougami didn't know what he was asking for, but he would grant Ginoza the world, if he could. He sat up, tugged Ginoza gently with him.

"Come on, Nobuchika. Bedroom." He stood, lifted Ginoza into his arms, one around his shoulder, the other hooked under skinny knees, and set him down on Kougami's bed. And he pulled his own shirt over his head. knelt over Ginoza's slight form, kissed him again.

For a long while they just lay there, bared arms around each other, indulged in long, deep kisses, building back to the desperate arousal that had overtaken them just minutes ago. Kougami let his hands roam, over Ginoza's shoulders, his back, lower, to wrap rough hands around his ass, squeezed, smiled for the gasp it drew from Ginoza.

"Like that, do you?" He smiled, teased, pressed a kiss just behind Ginoza's ear.

"I, I, yes." Ginoza managed, breath rough and cheeks bright with embarrassment mixed with raw want.

"It's okay, Gino." Kougami moved his hands back up, traced them through Ginoza's hair. "It's okay to want things, people. Whatever it is you want, that's okay." Kougami kissed him, licked soft at his lower lip.

Ginoza didn't answer. But he responded to the kiss, deepened it, lingering in each movement. So Kougami let his hands move down once more, grabbed his ass and pulled their hips flush once more. The desire was once again growing, to claim, to mark, to devour each pristine inch of Ginoza's skin. He knew it wasn't right. Desires like this would darken his hue, would hurt Ginoza, would ruin them both. He had to force himself to loosen his grip, to pull his kisses back, not to bite and pull and dig his nails in where he held on. But when he held too tight, when he bit in the midst of their kissing Ginoza moved with him, gave in and moved against him. He seemed to want those dark, rough bits of Kougami.

And it was just them, alone. No one would know if he squeezed, bit and pulled and hurt. If it was what Ginoza wanted. No one had to know but the two of them.

He sat up, finished undressing himself, exposed the whole of his want to Ginoza and watched his lover's eyes trail down his body. Kneeling over Ginoza's body, he took his hands, showed Ginoza where to touch, moved them over his torso, down to his hips, over his growing erection. And his whole body jerked at the first touch of Ginoza's fingers, the first time he had been allowed a touch so intimate, so wanting. He leaned back, removed his hands, let Ginoza give him a few experimental strokes, his long fingers curling around Kougami's thick, ruddy cock.

Kougami let out a low moan, shoulders falling forward and he kissed Ginoza, open and wet and wanting, trying not to thrust against his light touches. Ginoza was still learning to touch him, learning what he wanted. And it was incredible. Even as light, as inexperienced as he was, knowing that it was Ginoza, doing these things, wanting him, he could come from it. And a part of him wanted to.

Ginoza was growing more confident, the hand that wasn't moving over Kougami's arousal grasped his hip, kept him still so he could search, could feel for what made Kougami gasp, moan, struggle over Ginoza's name as he grew closer and closer to the peak of his desire. Small, desperate begging sound he barely recognized as his own hit Kougami, and he buried his face against Ginoza's chest, brought his hand to where his lover touched him, showed him how he wanted it, rough, desperate strokes bringing him close.

It wasn't the breathtaking, destructive orgasm he had been craving, but it was release, cathartic in that, when he felt himself release, his ejaculate splattering against Ginoza's pale stomach. He gathered himself, breathing harsh where his face was still pressed against his lover, for long moments he forgot to consider what had just happened. Or the fact that Ginoza had gained nothing from it. That he had simply taken his pleasures, and forgotten the man he loved in that.

When he realized this, he sat up, took his discarded shirt and cleaned Ginoza of the visceral evidence. Kissed him.

"What can I do for you, Nobuchika?" He asked, low, pushing both hands through his hair and seeking another kiss.

"Nothing." Ginoza dismissed, though he didn't turn away from the affections. "I don't need it."

"Do you want it?"

"Kou, I'm fine." He sat up, smiled soft. "I think I don't need like you do. Or, at least, not as often as you do."

Kougami laughed, kissed the corner of his lips. "Fine. Long as you're okay."

"I'm fine." And he got up, barely sparing Kougami another glance.

Kougami changed his clothes, pulling on a clean suit, and grabbed the coffee he had ordered before this had all started. He wasn't relaxed, the way he usually was after sex, instead, wondering at Ginoza's immediate dismissal of his own want. Because he had been aroused. Kougami had felt it. It had permeated everything, and he couldn't even imagine forcing him otherwise. But as soon as Kougami had gotten off, it had been over. And he had wanted to be a generous lover, wanted to give Ginoza more than he had gotten. He wanted to show him what physical love could be.

He heard the shower turn on, and buried his face in his hands, staring at a cup of black coffee and wondering where it had gone wrong. Because it was all wrong, even when everything should be right.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I am so sorry for how late this is. I hit bad writer's block and didn't get anything done for ages. I have no excuses. But I'm going to do my best to get updates out regularly now. Because I get so much love, and I love writing this, and you all are amazing. Please, if I take this long to get another chapter out, bother me at inconvenientplaces on tumblr. Because I won't abandon this fic.

_Hand me your hand, let me look in your eyes_  
 _As my last chance to feel human begins to vaporize_  
 _Maybe it's the heat in here, maybe it's the pressure_  
 _You ought to head for the exits, the sooner the better_  
\- The Mountain Goats, Autoclave

Kougami didn't hear Ginoza when he finally emerged from the shower, crept up behind Kougami and slid his long arms around him, rested his head against Kougami's shoulder, pressed a kiss there. Kougami smiled, relieved that the closeness was still welcomed, and reached for Ginoza's hands. 

"If you wanted to go out, we should."

"Ready?"

"I am."

Kougami drove them out to the edge of town, a small shopping district, cafes and secondhand stores. They stopped to get coffee, and Kougami made sure Ginoza ate, even if all they did was share a pastry. Ginoza pulled his half into tiny bites, took his time, quiet, staring down at his own hands like he was unsure of himself.

"Kou?" He asked, soft, when he finally looked up.

"Yeah?" Kougami leaned close, smiled for him.

"Will you come in with me this afternoon? I think we could use your help with the case."

"Of course I will." He smiled. "I'm on overnight anyway, helping out Division two."

Ginoza returned the smile, genuine but far away.

Kougami wanted to ask about that morning, about what had happened, if Ginoza was okay, if he was happy. But he didn't want to take the peace of their morning away, the bittersweet smell of coffee, Ginoza's smile. He reached across the table, entwined his fingers with Ginoza's. "Let's not talk about work, though."

Ginoza smiled, but it was bitter. "What else are we?"

"Books. Your plants, I saw those last night. They're real, aren't they?"

"They are. You didn't know I had plants?"

"No." Kougami laughed. "You grew them?"

"From seeds."

"So, like, from nothing?" Kougami didn't know too much about gardening, but the relaxation it brought to Ginoza's expression was everything to him.

"More or less." Ginoza's thumb traced idly over Kougami's hand where they still held on to each other.

"Will you grow something for me?"

Ginoza laughed, soft, looked down, but he found Kougami's eyes with his own only a moment later, over the rim of his glasses. "I will. Something that flowers, I think."

"I'd love that." And Kougami meant it. Because it would be a piece of Ginoza, something he made. Something he could nurture. He pulled Ginoza's hand to him, kissed his knuckles. "Can we look for books now?"

Ginoza nodded, didn't release his hand when they stood, made their way to the musty secondhand shops. There was a cardboard box of old paperback novels tucked away in a corner, unwanted, and Kougami sat on the floor, looking at each one, turning it over in his hands, feeling the faded papers, bent spines.

Behind him, Ginoza wandered the shop a little bit, looking at the forgotten knick-knacks and old clothes, pictures and pieces of a world before Sibyl. That was what Kougami liked about places like this. He wanted to see a world that wasn't the one he knew. It was what he loved about musty old shops, about the shrine in the park. About his books. 

He found a translation of an old Stephen King novel, The Gunslinger, and bought it, along with a small wood carving of a dog that was sitting on the counter. He thought Ginoza might like it, even if he couldn't have a dog on his own. It was a silly thing, but he slipped it into his pocket when he took Ginoza's hand to walk back to the car.

He placed the statue in Ginoza's hand with a smile when they sat down. "For you."

Ginoza turned the tiny statue over in his hands, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Shinya?"

Kougami looked over, in awe of the smile he had drawn from the man he loved.

Ginoza slipped his hand around the back of Kougami's head, tangling his fingers in his hair, and brought Kougami into a deep, intimate kiss. "I love it."

Kougami smiled, kissed him again, just to know that smile all the better.

Still, he couldn't bring himself to ask about that morning, even driving them to the PSB offices, silence drew over them. The looming specter of their case.

Work was completed in perfect synchronization, in silence, even if Kougami had wanted to bring up what had happened that morning, he wouldn't know how. And then the enforcers were there, and he couldn't talk. The case was everything. Every word they spoke pertained to that plastic body. Ginoza had gone cold, clinical, detached. Maybe that was for the best. Maybe talking about it would be poking at a wound that was too fresh. Maybe Ginoza didn't know what had happened himself. Sex was becoming a complicated idea, something that hadn't bothered Kougami much before.

He wasn't virginal, by any means. But he also hadn't had a relationship like this before, where he loved his partner, wanted so badly to care for them. Other romances had been fleeting, a night or two, a week, at the most, once, with a girl in school. She had been soft, warm, spent nights in his bed, but there was never a chance of love.

With Ginoza, with Nobuchika, there was. Even if it was one sided. Even if Ginoza could never find it within himself to love Kougami in return. If that part of him had been killed, if it had never existed at all. He would love Ginoza. No matter what.

He was relegated to going through security footage from the crime scene, Sasayama sitting beside him, smoking, ashtrays overflowing with the evidence of their long afternoon, cigarette butts dropped in empty coffee mugs. Ginoza was off with Kunizuka, in Karanomori's lab going over evidence, reconstructing the scene, as if anything new could be gained. As if this were a normal case, one they could just solve, move on.

Sasayama didn't talk much when they were working. He fidgeted, leg twitching restlessly, fingers fiddling with a cigarette, a pen, the short strands of his hair. He turned in his chair, tapped his fingers, chewed his lip.

"What?"

"I don't like this case. It feels all wrong."

"Of course it's wrong. But we need to sort it out."

"You don't get it. Wrong. Like, this guy isn't just killing to kill. He's trying to make us see something."

"And what's that?"

"If I knew we'd be much closer to catching the sick fuck."

Kougami considered Sasayama's words. The killer, trying to make a point, rather than just the shock of such an act. He wanted the body to be found. Else it wouldn't be arranged like it was. Like artwork. And the environment holo wouldn't have lasted forever either. The body was meant to be seen. Sasayama was probably right. Shock value would be much easier to arrange. This would have taken effort. This was planned, it was practiced. Kougami wondered if they might be looking for some sort of artist, while the others focused on the chemicals, on how their killer might be getting what he needed to turn the bodies to plastic. 

"How would an artist know how to butcher the bodies like that?" Sasayama asked, pouring sugar into his fourth cup of coffee.

"Don't artists have to take anatomy?"

"Don't artists have to be registered?"

Kougami chewed his lower lip. "That might be a good place to start, really. Get the registries, look for similarities, high crime coefficients, someone who might have connections to the chemicals."

Sasayama reached across him to grab another pack of cigarettes. "Well, put in a request. I need a drink."

"Take the evening, it's fine. I can work alone."

"Is the old man off duty?"

"Yeah." Kougami looked away. He didn't like the idea of being left alone, nothing but his thoughts to keep him company, but the pallor to Sasayama's skin, the shaking in his hands when he lit a cigarette showed Kougami how much the case was throwing him off. And it was getting to Kougami too, but he couldn't let it go. The sooner this was solved, the sooner he and Ginoza would be able to rest. Maybe have some time alone. Take a day or two and get him away from the city, away from all the hurt. To reclaim the smile he had seen that morning.

He looked over at Ginoza's empty desk. The wooden figure was there, the only decoration, the only sign that someone had claimed that space as their own.

"Mind if I take one of the tablets up to my room with me?" Sasayama's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Yeah, go ahead. You're on call, though. Or else it'll just be me and Kunizuka down here all night to assist Division two."

"Got it, boss." Sasayama smiled, and he was gone.

The office was oppressively quiet as Kougami worked, and he found himself going through more cigarettes than he might have needed, skimming through security footage and reports, a few witness reports from the people who had found the body to begin with. Every detail of the case perfectly organized, Ginoza must have put the files in order while he was working late. He was good at that. Just like the impersonal desk, everything was sorted, categorized, compartmentalized. It was where his strengths lay.

Kougami wondered what category he fell into.

He wondered if he was something to be treasured and kept. Something to be cared for, like the small potted plants in the window. Nurtured so they could thrive, despite everything. He wondered if Ginoza categorized him as something wanted. Something loved, like the tiny wooden statue of the dog, sitting obediently on his desk. The only decoration he had. Or if he was just something that was there. A convenience.

Kougami wanted to be wanted.

Ginoza came back alone, sat at his desk. "Kunizuka is taking a break for dinner. Where's Sasayama?"

"Sent him up to his place. The case is making him sick. He's on call, though. If I need him." Kougami pulled his chair over to Ginoza's desk, rested on it, his chin on top of his arms. "Find out anything?"

"We have a list of people buying in chemical compounds that would fit. Division three's out checking on the individuals. Might be stealing it from a larger company, though. I emailed you the files, you might want to follow up on it while you're on overnight."

Kougami reached for his hand, smiled when Ginoza held his. "Are you going home tonight?"

"I don't know."

"You're off duty today, though."

Ginoza squeezed his hand. "I don't want to go home alone." It was like a confession. Like something he was ashamed to let Kougami know. His voice was low, quiet. His eyes honest.

Kougami had to admit that it hurt.

He squeezed the hand in his. "You shouldn't stay here, though."

"Can't I?" Ginoza still didn't let go of Kougami's hand, laced their fingers together, small, quiet. Kougami knew he didn't want to show his fears. But Ginoza didn't want to be alone. And Kougami didn't want him to be.

Maybe he was categorized as a need after all.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some parts of this chapter that I'm actually really proud of. So I know it's not as long as I usually post, but there's some good in it. And I'll have a longer chapter next time. You can talk to me here, or at inconvenientplaces on tumblr. I promise I talk back. Maybe too much. Also I am so sorry, again, that it's been almost two weeks since I last updated. I failed you guys. I wish I had an excuse, but I don't.

_But me I'm a single cell_  
_On a serpents tongue_  
_There's a muddy field where a garden was_  
_And I'm glad you got away_  
_But I'm still stuck out here_  
_My clothes are soaking wet_  
_From your brother's tears_  
\- Bright Eyes, Poison Oak

The second plastic body turned up three days later, suspended from the scaffolding as they assembled a concert for a holographic pop idol. Kougami wasn't on duty, Ginoza took Masaoka and Kunizuka, Kougami had been at the office all the same, sitting in the cafeteria with Sasayama, waiting for Ginoza to be off work so he could take him out for the afternoon.

They didn't get to go.

Instead Ginoza spent the night interviewing the programmers, the construction workers, everyone who had been involved in setting the stage, programming the music, even some of the registered creatives behind the holographic idol.

Kougami couldn't bring himself to leave Ginoza there with the plastic body and the interviews. With the enforcers, with Masaoka. With the job that would destroy them all, given enough time. He waited outside the interrogation room, chainsmoking, hands fidgeting, watching Ginoza on the monitors. To everyone else, Ginoza looked collected, cold. Perfectly organized, hyper- competent. The programmers seemed scared of him.

Kougami saw the fear under the mask of professionalism. He saw the nerves, barely hidden under the surface, the stress taking hold behind those green eyes. Everything in the interrogation room was monitored, and Kougami could see Ginoza's hue checks, shades of blue, not dark enough to call alerts, but dark enough to worry Kougami. Dark enough to make him wonder if he shouldn't pull the door open, take Ginoza aside, try to comfort him. But there was no comforting him, not now. If Kougami tried to pull him away from his work, he would only make things worse. Ginoza couldn't leave the job undone.

Sasayama stood beside Kougami, held his hand out until Kougami handed him his cigarettes.

"Isn't Gino running a little dark?"

"What can we do about it?" Kougami shrugged, barely managing to mask his frustration with his own uselessness.

"I don't know. You're the one fucking him."

Kougami groaned. "And I don't think I know much more than you do."

"Haven't you figured out how to help?"

Kougami heaved a sigh, stubbed out his cigarette. "I wish."

"Get him shitfaced and fuck the stress right out of him?"

Kougami outright laughed. "I seriously doubt that would go over well."

"Well you could try one or the other?"

Kougami scoffed. "Okay, maybe you don't know about him."

They were interrupted by Ginoza emerging, worn and tired and holding himself together behind his suit, his glasses, a cold glare. "We're being sent home while they run scans, toxicology reports, and send the witnesses for stress care."

Sasayama gave Kougami a knowing glance.

"Gino, come with me?" Kougami offered, trying to mask his worry behind a charming smile.

Ginoza looked at him, nodded. "I suppose, if we're being sent home all the same."

The veneer of cold uncaring didn't fade even when Kougami let them into their apartment. Ginoza went immediately for his tablet to pull up the case information, curled into the sofa to continue his work and Kougami was left to stand there, wondering what he could do in the face of it all.

He had to solve this, before it broke Ginoza. Before it took away the only thing that seemed important anymore. He had the awful, sick, utterly wrong feeling that this case would break them both, and he had to solve it before it came to that.

But there they were, sent home, Kougami leaning on the kitchen island counter, Ginoza curled into the sofa, and he may as well be on the other side of the world for all the distance that seemed.

The bodies were stacked between them, cold and plastic and all but real, insurmountable.

Kougami forced himself to stand, to breach the distance between them and sit beside Ginoza, to take the tablet from his thin fingers and set it aside. Because the case needed to be solved, and he could take that burden, but the burden now was Ginoza, his dark colors and tired eyes. And that was a burden he might be able to carry. He let Ginoza lean against him, wrapped his arms around the slight form. He'd lost weight again. Even with Kougami trying to feed him, when he could, when he remembered, Ginoza felt smaller. Almost frail. Kougami felt sick.

But Ginoza didn't offer conversation, and Kougami didn't initiate it. He just held on, quiet, watching a bitter snow fall out their window, he couldn't hear the signs of life in the city anymore. Like they had all been taken, turned to plastic. Like the only things alive anymore were the two of them, holding on to each other. 

He kissed Ginoza, soft, it was the only thing he could offer, and it was granted, returned, Ginoza's hands growing more sure, threading through Kougami's messy hair, holding the kiss close. And Kougami kissed messy, hitting his lips, drawing them between his own, moving to the corner of his mouth, his defined, elegant cheekbone, back down to capture his lips again. He wanted to know every part of Ginoza, afraid he was going to lose him to this case, to the silence of winter and the frozen horror in the face of their newest victim. Instead he pressed their foreheads together, his eyes closed and his hands cradling Ginoza's head to his and he begged without words for him to stay, in tiny, fleeting kisses. In the breath he gasped between them.

He could only hope that Ginoza understood.

Ginoza's lips trailed over Kougami's jaw and his hands moved down, to grasp at his shirt, but he didn't ask for anything, at least not anything that Kougami understood. He sought only the closeness of something real, something living. And that, Kougami could provide. He held on, it was the only thing he wanted, really, anymore. To hold on to the slight form in his blunt hands and know that he would solve this. He would fix it and they could go back to that boundless, terrifying love that he felt, that he could walk into without fear despite everything.

But, at the same time, he feared that depth of feeling almost as much as he feared the horror of the plastic bodies. The certainty of their destruction. Because if this case didn't break them, everything Kougami felt would.

He wasn't made for this. Sibyl could not safely recommend his chosen romantic partner.

But Ginoza had drifted off, found peace in his arms. And it was nothing to lift him, to carry him into Kougami's room and wrap blankets around them both. But he couldn't promise him it would all be alright. He couldn't offer the assurances, the platitudes that would normally come with a peaceful sleep. He could only promise, again and again, in whispers, in kisses against his soft hair, in the calloused hands he ran down Ginoza's arms, that he loved him. That he could give him every bit of love he had. That maybe it was too much. And maybe it was dark, broken obsessed, but it was what he had and what he wanted to give.

Kougami dreamed of the ocean again, of the certainty that they were drowning. But it wasn't Ginoza, this time, standing in the rising tide. Instead, Kougami stood there, rooted to the spot and he didn't seek to move. And he knew, with the conviction of dreams, that Ginoza was there with him, just behind. That Kougami was going to drown, and Ginoza would follow. Because they were too far out, away from the safety of shore. They had waded into the dark, into the unknown and the tide was rising. And he didn't want to run anymore. He needed to know what was out there in the dark, in the night, in the bottomless depths of the ocean.

If he just reached back, he knew, Ginoza would be not far behind.

He wanted to scream, his dreaming self, to turn around and scream and tell Ginoza to get back. That he didn't know what was out there. That the shore was so close, he could be safe. Kougami would come back when he knew it was okay, and they could explore together. But nothing came out, and the tide wrapped around his shoulders dark and deep and bottomless ocean spread out around him. No sound emerged. He couldn't turn. He knew Ginoza was there, that he would be swept up in it too and he couldn't save him.

He would just be another person who claimed to love Ginoza Nobuchika. Who had failed him. Who had left.

He woke in a cold sweat to find the bed empty.

Ginoza was in the kitchen, poking listlessly at a bowl of food, his hair sleep messy and his eyes hardly more awake. He hadn't changed, his suit was rumpled and wrinkled, tie undone and loose around the collar. He barely glanced up when Kougami leaned beside him, reached for his other hand.

"Come back to bed." Kougami pleaded, lacing his fingers with Ginoza's.

But Ginoza didn't move, his hand almost limp in Kougami's, he didn't bring the food to his lips and he didn't glance over.

"Please?"

And he did look up, slipped his glasses off and leaned against Kougami, smiling, tired. The kind of bone deep tired that wore the body down, left the mind working around itself.

Kougami pressed a kiss to the temple of his forehead, hugged him tight. "Come on. We're taking tomorrow off, you're sleeping in. You're running dark, Gino, and I'm worried."

"I know." He mumbled. "I got an alert. You should have gotten one too." He scoffed, a bitter laugh. "Our colors match."

Kougami hadn't considered that. He'd fixated, worried and agonized about Ginoza falling. Hadn't thought that perhaps he was stumbling downwards after him.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think I might have to concede to an every other week update schedule for now. I hate that I have to, but I'm not getting updates out as quickly as I would like. But you guys can always come to me here, or at inconvenientplaces on tumblr to pester me to write more. Because I really should write more. I'm also open to constructive critique, suggestions, or thoughts on where this beast is going. I promise I'm a fairly nice person.

_Whisper a dangerous secret to someone you care about. Now they have the power to destroy you, but they won't. This is what love is._  
\- Welcome to Night Vale, on twitter

An art teacher had gone missing, and Division one was rerouted, temporarily, from the plastic bodies, assured that Division two could work on the raw data while they looked into this small matter. Popular theory was that he had absconded with one of his students. After all, he worked at a prestigious all girl's school, fully of the daughters of the wealthy and disenfranchised. Before Sibyl, that sort of thing had happened often. Or so Kougami was told.

And then they found it.

They were in the teacher's apartment, going through the man's things for some clue to where he was, when Sasayama pulled out a small jug.

"Inspector? What do you suppose this is?"

Kougami looked at it. White, nondescript, unlabeled. Could be something as innocuous as cleaning supplies. Could be anything, really. "Bring in a drone. Find out." He dismissed.

Until he heard Ginoza shout.

"Inspsector Kougami!" All professional, a far cry from the intimacy they had shared the night before. He'd held Ginoza in his arms, their pale, naked forms pressed tight and Kougami had endeavored to kiss every bit of skin he could reach. But that suit, the PSB standard issued jacket drove a wall between them, the glasses hid his eyes, but Kougami held on to the memory of the passion he had shown, the breathless gasps of Kougami's name.

Kougami looked over, glanced down at the drone analysis. _Fuck._ Residue from an experiment in plastination. And maybe it wasn't what it looked like, but the balance of probability was damning. There was a vast chance that Kozaburou Touma was their killer. And he was nowhere to be found.

Ginoza had the drones taking the samples away, bringing them to Karanomori, more tiny drones scouring the small apartment for anything else that might bring them more information on that damning residue, any sign of where Kozaburou Touma had gone. It was imperative that they find him.

Sasayama was shaking, almost, fingers twitching.

"Hey, Gino? I'm going to take Sasayama out for a breather. You and Kunizuka got things in here for a few minutes?"

Ginoza nodded, terse. Kougami could see the tiniest bit of a bruise just under his shirt collar, one Kougami had left there, sucking and nibbling at the skin until it darkened under his lips, pushed just because of the noises it had drawn from him.

They were so far away from that night it might as well have been a work of fiction.

Kougami tapped out two cigarettes, handed one to Sasayama.

"An art teacher couldn't do that on his own. Where would he be getting the chemicals? Nothing turned up any red flags when we looked for the compounds. At least, nothing you or Gino or Shion mentioned."

Kougami nodded. "Nothing. He's got to be getting them from somewhere, though."

"We had no clue it was him, though. Why would he disappear?"

"Maybe his provider was unhappy with him."

Sasayama nodded. "I'll find the little fuck. Wring his neck for making me look at those bodies."

Kougami couldn't help but smile. "You can pull the trigger yourself if we find him."

"When, Kou. When we find him."

"You're right. We'll get this guy."

"I bet if Masaoka was on duty we'd have him already." Sasayama grinned. "Old man's got a nose like a fucking bloodhound."

Kougami laughed. "Guess he does."

"So how are you and lord high tall dark and creepy doing?"

"What? Gino?"

Sasayama laughed. "Who did you think I meant?"

"Gino and I are fine." Kougami sighed. Not the whole truth. They were still falling, in each other's arms, down the mountain cliffs and waterfalls like an old Sherlock Holmes story. Destroying each other. Neither could live while the other survived, but neither could they survive without each other. 

"Yeah? Amazed you can keep it going with this shit job."

"We find time." Late nights in Kougami's room, desperately clawing at each other, kisses messy clashes of teeth and tongue and sometimes missing entirely, mouths trailing down each other's jawlines. Just a few days past, when they were alone in the office one afternoon and Kougami had turned Ginoza's chair, perched in his lap and kissed behind his ear, whispered reassurances and affections like it meant something. Standing on the balcony, so close their shoulders touched, when Kougami went out for a smoke. Stolen moments. Last minutes. Borrowed time. They thrived in it.

"Don't know how you do it. But, I mean, if he makes you happy good for you."

Kougami nodded, ground his cigarette butt into the asphalt with the heel of his shoe. Was he happy? He wanted to be. Sometimes he was. Lying there the night before, sticky with sweat and spent ejaculate, Ginoza's slender, naked form in his arms, he thought he couldn't be happier in spite of the weight that hung over them both. He thought maybe everything they had been through only validated this bliss. Because would he even want it if it was easy? If loving Ginoza was simple he might have lost interest a long time ago.

"Come on. We should help them." Kougami held the door for Sasayama, took a moment to compose himself. Ginoza couldn't see the worry. Kougami couldn't give him another reason to darken.

"Our new top priority is to capture Kozaburou Touma." Ginoza had called all of Division One to Karanomori's office, as she had all the relevant data already displayed on the screens. "We have reason to believe he might be involved in the so-called Specimen Case, and we want him alive and brought in for questioning, if at all possible."

"So we're just going to slap a pair of cuffs on the fucker and call it a day?" Sasayama blurted out a crass laugh. "He killed four people!"

"We don't know that for certain." Ginoza looked away, and Kougami knew what that look meant. It meant he didn't believe his own words. He was feeding them what the Chief had given him. And briefly, Kougami was glad he hadn't been the one called in to meet with her. Kougami wouldn't have taken that lie, and it would have gotten them all the worse for it.

"Dominator will know." Sasayama sat back. "And if it tells me to kill this guy, I'm going to fucking kill him."

"I have to request you not do that, Sasayama. We still need to know where he was getting the chemicals from. And if he is even our killer. He could be the provider himself. All we know is that he had plastination residue in his apartment. Kozaburou could be nothing but a victim, for all we know."

"Fuck." Sasayama sat back, annoyed, he grabbed Karanomori's cigarettes and lit one. "You're fucking right."

Ginoza nodded. "Unfortunately."

And they were alone in the office again, the enforcers off duty for the night, Ginoza's lithe fingers flying over the keyboard as he searched through witness statements and CCTV records. And Kougami sat at his own desk, stubbing out cigarette after cigarette unsmoked as he watched the deep shadows under Ginoza's eyes, the slight tremble in his hands.

"Kou?"

Kougami smiled to hear his name on Ginoza's tongue.

"Cigarette?"

Kougami held the pack out, lit one for him. He got up, leaned over Ginoza to place the cigarette between his lips, to chase it with a kiss. And when Ginoza moved the cigarette, breathed out, Kougami captured the smoke, straddling Ginoza's hips on the office chair, kissed him once more.

"Breathe, Gino. You're here. You're safe. You're clear. And I'm with you and I'll be with you. I'm staying, Gino. I love you."

Ginoza let his head fall, so his forehead was pressed into Kougami's shoulder, wrapped his arms around him, the cigarette slowly burning out but Kougami hardly noticed, he was buried against Ginoza, surrounded by him. And he allowed himself to relax into the embrace, to latch strong arms around Ginoza's neck and pretend he couldn't feel how fragile his lover was. With gentle fingers he moved Ginoza's collar, found the bruise he had left the night before, kissed over it, his promise of love a breath on chapped, broken lips.

Maybe they were falling apart, but they were falling together.

"Kou, we should be working." Ginoza protested, but it was weak, he didn't let go of Kougami and he showed no sign he wanted to.

"The work will still be there." Kougami promised, let his kisses trail up behind Ginoza's ear, a place he'd discovered was sensitive to touch.

And Ginoza's hand closed in Kougami's suit jacket, even as he asked him again to stop.

So Kougami did stop. He stood, straightening his clothes, bent to capture just one more kiss. "I'll go up and grab us dinner."

Sasayama was in the break room, still working despite technically being off duty. He didn't look up when Kougami entered, frantic, stricken, he worked like his life depended on it. And maybe it did. Maybe just knowing to look for Kozaburou Touma they were all under threat now. Maybe he should be trying harder to protect them, not languishing in stolen kisses and ignoring the work that cried out, plastic bodies with hollow, doll's eyes. He punched in a dinner order, simple noodle dishes for them both, nothing that would upset Ginoza's oft-neglected stomach, and approached the enforcer.

"Found something?"

Sasayama startled, almost falling from his chair. "Kou!"

"You okay?"

"Y-Yeah. Just, was working, is all. Guess I got lost in it."

"Obviously." Kougami smiled. "But did you find something?"

"I think so. Not sure yet. I'd like to check it out, but you know how hard it can be to get out of here."

"Not if you're with me. How pressing is it?"

"You off tomorrow?"

"I am. Need to run an errand?"

"If you don't mind."

"Sure." Kougami looked him over. "Going to tell me what it is?"

"Tomorrow. Going to check out some leads first."

"Don't you think you're being kind of secretive about this?"

"Sorry, Kou. I just don't have enough solid information to tell you."

"It's fine." The computer alerted him that the food was ready, and Kougami grabbed the tray, gave his enforcer, no, his friend, one last smile. "See you in the morning. I'll call you when I get in."

Sasayama nodded, but he was already fixated on his tablet again, pale, nervous. Kougami wondered what he had found. The provider, maybe. Or Kozaburou Touma himself. Or something worse. The look in Sasayama's eyes said it might be worse. Kougami couldn't shake the idea that it was.

And Ginoza barely ate, already working again by the time Kougami set his food down in front of him, kissed his cheek and ruffled his hair in a play at affection. In the dim hope that one day they might have a normal relationship, where little touches like that were met with smiles, with gratitude. 

"Sasayama thinks he's on to something. I'm taking him to check out a lead tomorrow morning."

"I'll go with you."

"No, Gino, you need a day off." Kougami smiled, and he hoped it looked more reassuring than it felt.

"Kou--"

"No. Nobuchika, you're taking a full day off. Please. When I get back we'll go out for dinner or something. A proper fucking date. When was the last time we had one of those?"

"Two weeks ago. When you bought me the little dog."

Kougami glanced down at the tiny wooden dog statue that still sat near Ginoza's monitor. "Too long. Come on. Just try and relax for a day, would you?"

Ginoza smiled, and it was small, tired, but genuine. "Fine. I-I have some things around the apartment I can be working on anyway. I seem to remember promising you a plant."

Kougami nodded, glad, for once, to see Ginoza smile and mean it. "You did. Deal?"

"Deal."

Ginoza didn't finish his dinner. It sat, cold, until a cleaning drone took away the plates and Kougami offered him his coat so they could leave.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yet another delay. I really need to stop letting this happen. I do my best, I promise. I was distracted by Kougino week and then health stuff and life and the usual shit. All is well and hopefully I can update this beast semi-regularly again. TW for a small amount of canon typical body horror.

_So pick any number, choose any color_  
_I've got the answer_  
_Open the envelope_  
_I'll give you one more chance_  
_To say we can change or part ways_  
_And you take what you need_  
_And you don't need me_  
\- CHVRCHES, Recover

It had started off so well. Waking up in Ginoza's arms, indulging in a few long, slow kisses, smoothing hands over his soft, bared skin. They languished, in bed, the sun rising outside Ginoza's window, lighting the plants he kept. And Ginoza underneath him, smiling into each kiss, long and slender and beautiful, his eyes reflected gold.

Kougami thought he would never see that smile again.

The air smelled stale, after rain, and Sasayama had been missing since Kougami had dropped him off to talk to the informant he said he had. Twelve hours now. Kougami wondered if he had gone rogue. But whatever happened, they needed to find him. His last message had been shaken, panicked, said he found something. He was checking it out. He would keep Kougami updated. Then dead air. Nothing but dead air for twelve hours. They were scouring the tenements where he had last been seen, for any sign. The sky was muggy with unexpected heat, humid from the rain and Kougami thought he could smell blood. 

Ginoza was on edge, panicked, kept reaching out for Kougami. Finding excuses to touch him. Letting their fingers linger, holding on to the sleeve of his jacket when they talked. Kougami wished there were more he could do. He wished he could take Ginoza away, hold him in his arms, tell him it was all going to be okay. He knew it wasn't. But it needed to be. So badly needed to be. After this, he would take them away. Maybe go to the ocean. Get out of the city for a few days, wash this case from their hands.

Ginoza was losing his temper. 

"You let Sasayama leave!" He yelled, stepped away from Kougami. He had turned suddenly, but it was all the built up frustration of the case. Of whatever was going on between them. "You let him leave and now he's gone and that's on you, Kougami. We're not to leave the enforcers alone for a reason."

"I trust him. Gino, he's on to something."

"Don't call me that."

"He had something. Something's happened to him and we need to find out what. He was going after someone connected to Kozaburou Touma and we need to know who."

"There was no one Kougami. He wanted out." Ginoza bit out.

"Ginoza please. Let me look for him. He might be in danger."

"Isn't that what we're doing?"

"We're looking for two different things, though."

"We're looking for a fugitive enforcer." Ginoza insisted, turning away.

Kougami wished he had asked for more.

Because what they found wasn't something either of them had expected.

It was the Dominator first. Unused, laying on the floor in what was once a decorative courtyard. Ginoza insisted he had dumped it, knowing it could be tracked, and had the drones analyze it for last use. It had been authorized, and aimed at someone with a crime coefficient reading under thirty. The evidence was damning, but Kougami had heard that last message. Had heard the fear. He knew this wasn't something so simple as his enforcer running from the cage they had trapped him in.

The others didn't believe him, but it didn't matter. Even Masaoka was beginning to believe the line that he had run away. That he was breaking out and running for something better than this. Like there was something better than this. Like Sasayama could flee across the ocean, find something more. Be free and safe.

Kougami wanted that for him, suddenly. Even if he did not believe it would happen. Had happened.

Kougami was alone when he found him.

Or what was left of him.

Turned to plastic, dismembered, just like the rest of them. Held together with the parts of drones taken off the streets. He had no idea how Kozaburou Touma had gotten drones. Much less taken them apart. Wires were threaded through the drained plastic body that had once been his enforcer. His friend. The eyes were held open, and they stared at Kougami. No blood. There was no blood, anywhere in the small, humid room. Clamps of drones pulled on his eyelids, held them open, he stared at Kougami, lifeless and empty and pleading for something better than this.

There was nothing better waiting for him.

Just a messy, fucked up, sick sad and wrong death. Just a murder by someone they couldn't catch. Someone who could hold the drones, could take them apart without being caught. So the drones must not see him.

Sasayama saw him.

Sasayama stared, like at any second the thing he had been turned into would pounce, would throw itself at Kougami and he too would be taken away from this world that had gone so wrong.

He shook.

He dropped his gun.

"Inspector Kougami Shinya a drastic rise in your hue check and crime coefficient. Please seek treatment immediately."

He felt the ground rise up to hit his knees and he couldn't move. Sasayama was staring at him, his mouth open, his jaw couldn't hold itself up. He had no tongue.

Kozaburou had taken his tongue out.

Kozaburou could handle drones without being caught.

Sasayama held his own head up and his knuckles were red and sore and at least he had fought back. Kougami could hold on to that. He hadn't gone down easy. He couldn't breathe. He felt like he was drowning. And maybe he was drowning, under the knowledge of all that had happened he was drowning.

"Inspector Kougami Shinya, your hue check has been reported to the proper authorities and you will be taken in for rehabilitative treatment."

The sick fuck had laid flowers around his work of art.

Flowers, like the ones Ginoza kept in his bedroom, sitting by the window so that they might live. Thrive, really, under his care. He was so good to them. He was so good to Kougami. And Kougami gave him nothing in return, obsessed, asked for too much.

He should be the one held together by broken down pieces of drones, holding his own head, no tongue, eyes open and staring. He never should have let Sasayama go in alone. Sasayama Mitsuru was under his care and he had taken him out only to let him die. Only to let him be killed. He wondered if that thing that called itself a human had even bothered to kill him before ripping him apart.

In another world he had gone with Sasayama, insisted on it. In another world he had saved Sasayama, taken Kozaburou down in a shower of gore and viscera from a single well placed lethal elimination shot. In another world they were celebrating a case solved, drinking, and Kunizuka had brought her guitar. Ginoza was drunk enough to hum along, in that world, to the old songs, leaning against Kougami as Sasayama exaggerated the story of how they had taken Kozaburou Touma down. Turning Kougami into some kind of folk hero, brave and confident and true.

In another world they were all happy, and alive, and Division One was celebrating. Preparing for the next one. In this world he was asking for vacation hours so he could take Ginoza out to the ocean, buy him sweet cold coffee and let the water brush their bare feet. 

In this world he didn't drown.

In this world Sasayama smiled when he stared at him, stole his cigarettes. Teased him with a clever tongue that was still attached. He wondered, idly, if they would ever find it. What had been done with it. Why it was gone. Symbolic, most likely.

See no evil, he had seen it.

Hear no evil, his hands covered his ears where they held his head.

Speak no evil. He wouldn't anymore.

But what had he seen, Kougami wondered.

He had to get back. That thing was still out there. That thing could still hurt Ginoza. That thing could still get to them. It would take Ginoza away. He knew it would. If no one caught the creature it would keep killing and keep killing and keep killing until it had spread whatever message it was obsessed with.

His feet felt like lead. But he managed to walk away from the body, felt it's eyes boring into his back, watching him leave. Watching him abandon Sasayama Mitsuru once more. But what more damage could he do? What more damage could be bring upon a man he had abandoned him to die.

"Inspector Kougami Shinya, your crime coefficient levels have risen to a dangerous state. Officers have already been dispatched to your location to bring you in for rehabilitative therapy. Please do not leave the premises."

He didn't want Ginoza to see him.

But there he stood, Dominator raised, eyes panicked behind those stupid glasses he didn't even need. His mouth formed words, Kougami heard nothing. His eyes shook, wet. He yelled, Kougami still didn't register the words. He didn't fire, and he didn't lower the gun, and he didn't move. Kougami knew, distantly, what it was telling him. That Kougami was a target for enforcement action. He didn't fire.

But Masaoka did.

And all Kougami saw when he went down was a father gathering his broken son into his arms, trying to comfort no matter what had passed between them. Because Ginoza needed the comfort. And distantly, Kougami was glad for that, even as he fell, even as he felt a warm, sinking feeling pass through him, fortunately, being paralyzed didn't hurt.

What hurt more was the knowledge that he had failed. And he hadn't just failed Sasayama, let him die. He had failed Ginoza, because there he was, holding a Dominator to him. He had let himself get dark enough to be taken away.

All he knew, the only thing that would rage through his head was that he had to find a way to get back.

He had promised Ginoza he would never leave him.

And there he was, being carted away, taken to a white paneled rehabilitation room, taken somewhere he could not protect Ginoza from what he had seen.

Maybe it wouldn't hurt Ginoza the way it hurt him. After all, he had always been the one who could gaze into the abyss and not let it hurt him.

Maybe Kougami would be able to reach Ginoza once more before Kozaburou Touma did. Enforcer was always an option.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for canon typical body horror. I'm back, and this is back, and I love it. Questions, comments, concerns, critique, or even just a desire for friendship, feel free to talk to me here, or at inconvenientplaces on tumblr. I love every single person who gets far enough to read this.

_And all men kill the thing they love,_  
 _By all let this be heard,_  
 _Some do it with a bitter look,_  
 _Some with a flattering word,_  
 _The coward does it with a kiss,_  
 _The brave man with a sword._  
\- Oscar Wilde, The Ballad of Reading Gaol

 

White walls, white floors, white halls. Kougami wondered, a moment, if this was some sort of sick afterlife. If his coefficient had gone too high. If he was nothing more than a bloodstain in the courtyard of an abandoned apartment complex. If Ginoza had been forced to watch him die, because he hadn't pulled the trigger himself. He was laying on his back in a white cot, and wondered if Hell was a white room. If Heaven had judged him unworthy just as the Sibyl System had.

That theory made a shocking amount of sense.

There was a table beside him, also white. But on top of it there was a tiny potted plant, some sort of cactus, with an orange flower growing out of it, and a book, The Running Man. He hadn't read that one before. So it couldn't be Hell. No one would bring him new books in Hell.

So he went back to sleep, confident in the assessment that he had died.

When he woke again a monotone, synthetic voice was advising him to work towards a clearer hue. He was forced to reconsider his place in this white room, realizing that it was a rehabilitation facility. Not dead, then. Or perhaps it was a sort of limbo, analyzing who he had been and where he belonged. Purgatory was sterile and bureaucratic. Maybe he was still dead, after all. It was better than the alternative.

He couldn't be. The thing that had killed Sasayama was still out there. It could kill again. It could go after Ginoza. And he had promised he wouldn't leave Ginoza. He had to stay. He had to live. He tried to stand, groaned aloud at searing pain. Pain. So he had to still be alive. It was just a rehab center. His hue had just spiked. Like it had been threatening to for weeks. He could still get back to Ginoza. He had to get back. Ginoza needed him. The case needed him. The others needed him. Sasayama, or the thing he had become, needed him. Closing the case would give him rest.

The room flooded with a thick smoke and he slept again.

The thing was in the corner. It wasn't Sasayama, not anymore, a pile of limbs, holding up it's own head, drone claws forced it's eyes open and it watched him. But he wasn't afraid. It seemed so out of place there, in the corner of the white room, watching him. It didn't move. Neither did Kougami. Even the flowers that had been scattered at his feet remained, like someone had cut out the crime scene and pasted it in that corner.

"You know, Kozaburou Touma will go after the rest of the team now." It said, in a voice that was not Sasayama's. It spoke without a tongue.

"I know. It's my fault. I couldn't handle it."

"And who's going to suffer for that? You? Nobuchika? Everyone's going to suffer for it. It's just a matter of when. You let them down. You let me down."

He didn't answer, because it was true.

"You let them find me, take me apart, leave me there for someone to find. What if someone else found me? Look at what it did to you. What would it have done to Nobuchika? How high, do you think, would his numbers be? How dark can his hue get? Do you really think you would have been enough to save him, if he saw what you saw?"

"I'll get back to him."

"How? You've seen what happens to the people who get stuck here. There's only one option open to you. And you think he's going to want you back?"

Kougami went silent, watching the thing as it skittered closer, the pieces of the drones dragging him along the floor approached the small cot. He couldn't be scared. It was just Sasayama, after all. Or what was left of him. It was a part of Kougami, an extension of him. He understood this, in the same strange, distant way he knew he had not died. Which was to say, he didn't understand it at all. He knew Sasayama was there, he knew he wasn't. He knew he had died, he knew he still lived. All of those things somehow made sense, all at once.

"You did exactly what he begged you not to do. You left. You fell. You're on the other side of the law now, even if you go back it won't be the same." It didn't have Sasayama's voice. It didn't have a voice he recognized. He couldn't even claim he really heard it. It was just there.

"You really think he's going to take you back?"

Panic set in, smoke filled the room. He slept again.

Ginoza was standing on the other side of the clear, sterile plastic wall, and Kougami had no idea what was real anymore. It wasn't a business visit, he wasn't in his suit, instead, a pair of fitted, dark jeans, an oversized, forest green sweater Kougami recognized as his own. He managed to stand, this time, rushed to him.

"Gino?"

He didn't answer, looked down, turned away.

"Ginoza?"

And he left. And Kougami was alone once more.

He lost track of time. Sometimes Ginoza was there, but he never spoke. Sometimes, Sasayama was there and he told him all the things he never wanted to hear. He told him he was unloved, unwanted, that no one was coming to take him away from this place. 

"Division two found Kozaburou Touma."

Sasayama was in the corner again, reminding him that there was someone else, there was a provider, there was something they had missed, and it had killed him.

"We have a new enforcer."

"My replacement," Sasayama reminded him. "You allowed me to die. You were there. You should have saved me."

"I can't do this on my own."

"Don't you remember promising to stay? Everyone leaves him." Sasayama perched, broken, dismembered, at the edge of the cot. "How many times did he tell you that? He confided in you, and look where it got you both. I bet your hue is black now, with all the times you failed."

He never quite knew who was talking, because the second he got up, the second he showed signs of life, they would leave.

"I loved you."

Past tense. No fucked up hallucination had to remind him of that. It echoed in his head, ricocheting off the scattered memories of every touch, every kiss. The way Ginoza pleaded for him when they made love. Every memory was tainted by past tense, broken by the way his voice sounded.

He tried to convince himself it wasn't real, that it was just another hallucination. But he knew he was wrong, he was lying to himself. If anything had to be real, it was Ginoza's voice. It was the memory of touch, the smell of coffee as they laid in bed in the morning, Ginoza curled up to him as they took their time getting ready for the day, now past. Something he would never know again.

Slowly, he recovered. He came back to himself. He stopped seeing Sasayama, or the thing he had become, in the corner of the room. He read the book he had been left, again and again, until the words and the story were familiar to him, the characters almost as real as the people he had known. He told the therapists he felt better, he felt almost normal. The nightmares were almost gone. He was almost sure when he was awake, and when he was dreaming.

Almost. Almost. Almost. Never quite enough.

The therapists told him his hue might never recover. But that there were still chances for him to integrate into society once again. Just take these pills, they said, take this test, and we will tell you what your options are. We will judge you worthy, or leave you here to rot.

But, slowly, they came less and less often. He was lucky to see another human being even once a week, as much as he understood time anymore. Days were counted as the times between the harsh overhead lights going on, and off again. Time didn't mean much of anything. It could have been months. It could have been years. The world could have come crashing down around him, the sun burned out and the oceans flooding what was left of the world outside of this room. And the fluorescent bulbs were no good for the tiny plant on the white bedside table, it had barely grown since the first time he remembered waking. The flower wilted, slightly, brown more than orange. But he didn't let it die. When they brought him water to take the pills he dumped what was left over in it's tiny plastic pot.

_"Will you grow something for me?"_

_"Something that flowers, I think."_

_"I loved you."_

Drones escorted him to a small meeting room, the plant in the corner was fake, and he wasn't even allowed to wear shoes, the linoleum tile cold under his bared feet. He felt weak, lethargic, unreal.

Ginoza was wearing his uniform, and he didn't look Kougami in the eye.

"You have been approved to return to the MWPSB, in a limited capacity, as an Enforcer for Division One. We're still one person short."

"Who's Junior Inspector?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business to know."

Ginoza had lost weight again, his hair fell in his eyes. His glasses had a dark smudge in one corner, his hands were restless. Kougami saw all the tiny things that had gone wrong, everything that had happened in the time he had been away. He was hiding, behind the glasses, the long black bangs, the pressed suit.

"I just want to know who took my place."

Ginoza recoiled, stood, too quickly, he all but swayed on his feet and Kougami moved immediately to steady him, his hands hit the clear barrier between them.

"I'll put in a request to have you placed with a different Division, should you choose to return."

And he left, again.

Kougami took to working out in the cold, sterile room where he was left, if only because it exhausted him enough that he could sleep without dreaming. He waited, every time the lights came back on, for Ginoza to return, to tell him he wanted to go back.

Even if he was on the other side of the law, he could protect the person he loved.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short update this time, sorry guys! But there's some good in it I swear. I'm taking a vote, guys. Where should this end? You have two options. With the end of Season 1, or a short scene following the movie? Cast your votes here, or at inconvenientplaces on tumblr. Questions, comments, and concerns all appreciated and mostly responded to.

_On the morning when I woke up without you for the first time_  
 _I felt free and I felt lonely and I felt scared_  
 _And I began to talk to myself almost immediately_  
 _Not being used to being the only person there_  
\- The Mountain Goats, Woke up New

 

He was only in the facility two months. Division One was calling for him again. He needed to solve the case. He needed to save Ginoza. And the others. Find peace for Sasayama. He couldn't just hide in the facility, away from the horrors he had experienced. Peaceful though it may be, safe though it may be, Kougami couldn't stay. All he had, all he took with him, were the small plant and the book. Everything he had left.

Inspector Aoyanagi showed him to his apartment. She explained she was helping Ginoza run Division one for the time being. She was taking his place. But she was kind, and she was good, and she was a strong Inspector in her own right. She was a good replacement, really. Probably better for Ginoza than Kougami, in the long run. A better partner. Probably a better lover. Less complicated. Less broken.

His things were in his room. Which meant someone had gone into the apartment he had shared with Ginoza, had taken the books and the bedding and his clothes. Erased his presence from his old life. He wondered how empty the apartment looked. If Ginoza slept at all, remembered to eat. No one was there to take care of him anymore.

Well, maybe Aoyanagi was. If he let her in. Ginoza held the world at arm's length when he could, and Kougami could only imagine how bad it could get, after what Kougami had done to him.

But he had come back.

Just like he promised, he could never leave Ginoza's side. He couldn't abandon the man he loved to face this world alone, the way this world could hurt, could take. He couldn't let that happen to Ginoza, to Nobuchika, to the person he had chosen to follow to the ends of the earth.

Ginoza wouldn't look at him.

Day three in the office, and Ginoza had not made eye contact with him. It was cold, oppressive, stifling. He could taste the tension. Tangible, thick, like fog settling over the mountains in winter.

Ginoza wasn't sleeping. He wasn't eating. His normally perfect suits were rumpled, tie loose, shoulders small under the blazer. He didn't talk if he didn't have to, Aoyanagi took care of briefings, inquiries to the health and stability of the remaining Enforcers. Of Kougami.

And he lied, he told her he was fine. He told her he was settling in well. He told her the living quarters were fine, he was fine, he wasn't hurt. He was adjusting well to life as an enforcer, as a latent criminal. He lied, and he faked a smile and if Ginoza had ever looked at him he would know.

He always knew.

He got rid of the sleeping area in his quarters, replaced it with a mat, a punching bag. Moving was the only thing that helped anymore. Fighting was therapeutic. Hitting things was real, it was solid. It was something he could control. It was something he understood.

His knuckles bruised, went red, bled in some parts. He made a wall, devoted to the case, photos of happier days. And when he was done with the pain, when his knuckles hurt too much he sat in front of the wall. He tried to put it all together. What Sasayama had found out, what he died for.

He was assigned Sasayama's desk. His computer. The things he had known, had worked on. And he printed documents, a single grainy photo of a white haired man, the file labeled "Makishima." A name, most likely. But the name of the man in the photo? It seemed likely. He couldn't rule anything out. He had to keep his mind open, this could be anything. Any of this, it could be anything. 

"The specimen case is over, enforcer. You need to delete the case files off your personal and professional devices, as per request of the chief." Ginoza still didn't look at him.

"Why does the chief want this gone?"

"The case is closed. We're not to be involved with it any longer."

And Ginoza walked away. Kougami knew that done. He knew that expression. Ginoza was no more pleased with the outcome than he was. He was leaving something out. Something he didn't want his team to know. Or something the chief had set that set off the instinct he had tried to tell Kougami he didn't have.

"Gino?"

He turned, his eyes sharp. "A bit informal, right, enforcer?"

"Don't lie to your team." Kougami met his eyes, swallowed his fear.

"I told you all I was authorized to tell you." Ginoza bit out. "You are dismissed, enforcer."

"Gino talk to me." Kougami pleaded, reached for his hand.

Ginoza wrenched away, like he had been burned.

"I'm sorry. But you're suffering. We can't keep up like this."

"You made your choice." Ginoza turned from him. "And I am left to suffer the consequences."

"Please. Let me help."

"Get out." Ginoza snarled. "Just get out."

"Talk to me." Kougami insisted.

"What is there to talk about?" Ginoza demanded, his voice raising, shoulders trembling in a way Kougami knew too well. Anger and exhaustion creeping in all at once, washing over him.

Kougami reached out, touched his cheek, his shoulder, feather light, and Ginoza didn't resist, but he didn't move.

"Don't try and do this all alone." Kougami pleaded. "I'm right here. Just like I've always been. Just like I always will be."

"No." Ginoza managed, shaking. "No, you're not. You've left. Like I knew you would."

"I'm right here."

"Then why is the apartment empty?" Ginoza all but yelled, he had found his breaking point. "Why am I alone?"

"You're not alone, Gino." Kougami tried to stay calm.

"Stop that! You left! I shouldn't have accepted you back on to the team." Ginoza turned from him, hands balling into fists, shoulders jumping with tears he didn't shed. "You are dismissed, enforcer. And please take a day of leave tomorrow."

Kougami set his jaw, and walked up to Ginoza, wrapped his arms around him from behind, pulled the slight, quivering body close to his. It felt right, to hold him like that. And Ginoza still didn't move. He did not accept the embrace, but he didn't turn from it.

"Gino, let me help." He tried, begged, even, to be allowed in. To alleviate some of the burden setting into the man he loved.

"You can't. Not anymore." Ginoza whispered, voice hoarse, broken.

"I love you."

"Not enough to stay." And Ginoza left, the office empty, squeaking of the overhead fan the only sound left in the building.

Kougami sunk into his chair, Sasayama's chair, lit a cigarette. Of course Ginoza was angry with him. First his father, then his lover, trapped in this place. Labeled unfit for society. Broken, chained, like animals. Like hunting dogs. Like the tiny wooden statue of a dog, sitting obediently even still on Ginoza's desk.

Kougami got up, took the small toy in his hand, turned it over, felt where the wood had worn with touch. It sat there, on Ginoza's desk, even still. Even after all that had happened. The room filled with ghosts, happier memories, the months dead and the still living haunted.

He didn't sleep that night. He laid on the sofa, smoking, wishing he hadn't seen Ginoza. Wishing he hadn't talked to him. Wishing he hadn't held him because he could still feel that slight body, the harsh jut of bone where he was too thin. He could still feel the way Ginoza trembled in his arms. If he thought long enough, he could still taste their last kiss.

The way they fit against each other in Kougami's old bed, the way it felt to run his fingers through Ginoza's soft, thick hair. The way he kissed in the early morning, still tired, languid and slow. His warm hands skimming over Kougami's bared skin. The sounds he made when they made love.

Kougami's hand drifted down his own torso, imagining the way Ginoza had touched him in fondness just months ago. His soft, slender fingers, the way his lips ghosted over the trails his fingers had made. Kougami took himself in hand, imagined it was a night, months ago, when Ginoza had taken him in his mouth, learning how, almost awkward with his lips and tongue. But it was Ginoza, and so it was amazing. He stroked faster, remembering that, memories mixing with every time they had made love. Every kiss, every fumbling of clothing, tossing it aside, they were never hurried, they took their time in their intimate encounters, Ginoza was still shy. He never did quite learn. He rubbed his thumb against the head of his own cock, let himself move into the touch, he had felt Ginoza in his arms, knew his scent, his touch.

He came, messy, dissatisfied into his hand. And all he could hear in his head was the lost bitterness, the anger with which Ginoza had spoken to him. The way he had closed off, never responded to the embrace. The way he couldn't look at Kougami anymore. Kougami looked down at his own mess, hated himself for it. Hated that he could not get over Ginoza. Still wanted to help, to protect, to love. He wasn't ready to let Ginoza Nobuchika go.

He couldn't let him go.

And he didn't want to.

But he was alone. And he was barred from the office, and the reek of cigarettes filled his small apartment, and the punching bag came flying off it's hinges, and burned up his arms and he put the cigarette out on his bared skin. Just so he could feel something more than the ghost of Ginoza in his arms.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Small warning. This chapter gets into areas of dubious consent, and their repercussions. If that bothers you, you can probably skip it without missing too much, save for the introduction of Kagari to the team. As always, I love all the love I get on this, and you can come talk to me about anything, really, here or at inconvenientplaces.tumblr.com.

_Just give me one fine day of plain sailing weather_  
 _And I can fuck up anything, anything_  
 _It was a wonderful life when we were together_  
 _But now I've fucked up every little goddamned thing_  
\- Frank Turner, Plain Sailing Weather

They hired a new enforcer. A kid, who had been in isolation since he was five, called out of a crowd for a high crime coefficient. Ginoza sat alone with Kougami in the office, while Masaoka and Aoyanagi had gone to pick up the new recruit, Kunizuka on a rare day off. Ginoza was focused, working on reports, he didn't look at Kougami even once.

"We're getting a new enforcer."

Ginoza looked up. "What of it?"

"What do you think of him?"

"He was recommended to Division one. My personal opinion is irrelevant."

"You have to lead him. Your personal opinion should be paramount."

"Kougami, you've been on my side of the room. You know I can't exactly argue with what Sibyl has decreed."

_We cannot safely recommend your choice of romantic partner._

"Yeah. I know." Kougami lit a cigarette. "But you need to be able to lead your team, and if you can't work with him, you can't work with him."

"I can't work with you either, but I don't see you getting a transfer order, or being moved to an isolation facility."

Kougami walked around to Ginoza, turned his chair until he faced Kougami. "You can work with me. We made an incredible team. You just refuse to." He leered over Ginoza, close enough to breathe him in again, in a way he hadn't in months. Thought he never could again. Ginoza merely watched him, nervous, his eyes darted around the office he went still, but he didn't move away.

"What we had, Gino, we worked perfectly together. We were perfect together. And none of that has to change." He reached forward, and took Ginoza's jaw in one hand, felt him worn and thin underneath him. Too small to consider resisting, and Kougami couldn't tell if he wanted to. It made him sick to his stomach to realize that he didn't care. That Ginoza was right there, underneath him, warm and alive and just as beautiful as he had been the day they met. And he wasn't moving away from Kougami. Even if he did watch him with panic in his golden green eyes. Even if he didn't kiss back.

Kougami kissed him, once, then twice, pleading without words for him to kiss back. He pressed his rough hands through Ginoza's soft hair, coaxed his mouth open and slipped his tongue inside, deepened the kiss, begging for more. And a more that was not granted. Ginoza didn't move away, but he didn't respond, didn't even close his eyes to Kougami's kiss. But still, Kougami persisted. He stole another kiss, straddled Ginoza in his chair, pressed against him.

And then Ginoza did respond. He wrenched his hands into Kougami's shirt, pulled him close, or maybe he sought to push him away. To take some kind of charge in this mess. But it felt like he was kissing back, or maybe he didn't know what else he could do. Maybe Kougami had grown too strong, or Ginoza had grown too weak, and Kougami could simply take what he wanted. For a moment he was sick with the thought and drunk on the power. And for a moment Kougami thought he was dreaming. Thought it was the culmination of his fantasies leaking into his waking life, thought it couldn't be real, it was too good, to know him like this. To loosen the tie, slip hands against his jaw, his throat, to kiss him open mouthed and intimate.

They didn't get any farther, Ginoza pushed him away, firm, very real, when they heard conversation in the hallway. Aoyanagi had returned, with a small, scared boy with flaming red hair and wide eyes, Masaoka behind them. The old man gave a small cough, just enough to signify to Kougami that he had some idea of what had conspired only moments ago.

"Kagari, this is Senior Inspector Ginoza, and Enforcer Kougami. They'll be on Division One with us." Aoyanagi introduced the skinny ginger, Kagari, to them.

The kid smiled, hesitant.

"Hey." Kougami offered. "Welcome to the team."

"Hi. You, um, like the tough guy around here or something?" Kagari asked. "I mean, we've got the pretty girl, the pretty boy, the old guy, me, and that must make you the muscles. Like a video game team." He grinned, childlike.

Kougami laughed. He had to hand it to the kid, he had a personality. Which Kougami guessed must have been hard to develop growing up in isolation.

"Yeah, I guess that makes me the tough guy. Want to find out?"

"What?"

"I'll spar you." Kougami grinned, crooked, wolfish. Eager to get his mind off how pale Ginoza was, how he refused to look at anyone. How he hadn't spoken since he had pushed Kougami away. How he looked like he might be sick.

"Oh you're on." Kagari remained oblivious.

But Masaoka didn't. "Go ahead," He told them, with a smile entirely too wide to be real. "But I need to talk to you after, Kou."

Kougami nodded. "Sure, old man. I'll take Kagari down to the gym, we can go a couple rounds, and we'll talk after."

Kagari grinned. "You're on."

He walked the jittery, hyperactive kid down to the elevators, to the gym area available for members of the MWPSB. It was surprisingly well stocked, considering it was mostly used by latent criminals, but he guessed they wanted Enforcers to look adequately physically intimidating. He slipped out of his blazer and shirt, stretched, watching Kagari as the strange kid just stared.

"Ready?"

Kagari charged at him. He was small, but he was quick, and eager to prove himself. Scrappy and desperate, with something to prove. But Kougami trained, instead of thinking. Kougami hit things so he didn't have to acknowledge where he was, what he had broken, what he had ruined.

Kagari didn't stand a chance. But he would have to learn, if he wanted to survive. So Kougami didn't hold back. He twisted, dodging the haphazard, messy punches until the kid literally jumped on him, and he went down, felt something crunch at his ribcage. He scrambled out from underneath Kagari's unpracticed hold, wrenched the small redhead's arm back, it was probably broken, but he didn't care anymore. Kagari had to learn. Kougami had to hurt something, to cover the sickening guilt in the pit of his stomach.

"Stop!" Aoyanagi yelled from the sidelines. "Kagari, go to the medical bay. Now. Kougami, you should know better than to fight like this. We need our team in one piece and from the looks of things we're going to be two men down Kagari's first week with the PSB. I'll be filing a disciplinary report for your behavior."

Kagari made a face, sheepish, apologetic.

"Don't worry, Kagari." Aoyanagi's face softened. "You're not in trouble. Kougami should have known better."

The kid nodded, smiled a little. "Okay."

"And Kougami?" Aoyanagi's kindness disappeared as soon as she looked at him.

"Huh?"

"I don't know, nor do I care what's happened today, but you need to sort it out before anyone else gets hurt."

He nodded. "I'll, um, yeah. Can I take the rest of the day?"

She nodded. "I'll call Kunizuka down to cover if something goes wrong, but me and Masaoka can probably take care of it?"

"Where's Gino?"

"Last I saw, physically ill." She narrowed a glare. "You two need to sort out whatever's going on. Division One can't afford to operate like this. I'm taking Kagari. I think Masaoka wanted to talk to you."

He nodded. "I'll be in my quarters."

He was on his third cigarette when the knock came, and rather than get up, he ordered the computer to let whoever it was in.

Masaoka grabbed him, yanked Kougami to his feet, just to deliver a clean blow to his face, knocking him back to the sofa.

"You're lucky I need to stay here and not get sent to isolation. I should kill you." He muttered.

"I'm sorry." Kougami managed, rubbing his jaw. He tasted blood. He deserved it.

"Nobuchika won't tell me what happened, but Aoyanagi had to give him two days off over whatever the fuck it was you did while we were gone. I can guess, but it's not something I want to think about."

Kougami hung his head. He had deluded himself, into thinking Ginoza wasn't hurt. Into thinking he might want things back as they were. Into thinking he had any right to touch Ginoza, to kiss him, to treat him like anything other than a distant memory, a cold, uncaring superior officer. Something to never be touched again.

Masaoka left, probably before he hit Kougami again, and Kougami allowed himself to fall back to the sofa, nursing the blood at his cheek, the swollen bruise that was his ribcage. He deserved worse than that, he knew. He didn't deserve to stay. He'd be surprised if he could. He'd end up back in isolation again. In the back wards where there were gasses set to kill if he acted out. Where he was no longer allowed among society. No hope for recovery. No hope to see the outside world.

He dreamed of the ocean again. He dreamed of the setting sun, the cold, gathering like ice under his bared feet. He dreamed of the waves, crashing against him, sweeping him out into emptiness. He dreamed Ginoza was there, drowning, sinking under the inky black water. He reached for his hand and passed right through it. He knew, in that strange dream logic, that he was drowning, that Ginoza was just barely too far away to save. That if he could just get closer, just move through the thick, dark water, like tar, like cigarette smoke, he could save him. But Kougami could not save himself. In the dream, that wasn't an option. He was too far gone.

He jolted awake, a cold sweat dripping down his face. His ribs burned, his jaw felt swollen and sore, and he knew he had to call Ginoza. He had to try and make this right. He couldn't be taken away from him once again.

"Kougami?"

For a moment he was shocked, hadn't expected Ginoza to answer the call.

"Gino I'm sorry. I know, I fucked up. I hurt you, I broke the new kid's arm, I shouldn't be allowed to stay on the team. I'm too volatile, aren't I?"

"You're the best detective we've got. It would be irresponsible of me to dismiss you from your duties over a personal matter. However, if you injure another enforcer again, we will have to discuss your removal from the team." He spoke cold, clinical. Didn't give anything away. Of course he didn't. He had to be the strong one. He had to be the good one. Everyone else had failed him.

Kougami had failed him.

"I love you." Kougami whispered, looked away. Even without the video enabled, he could see Ginoza's refusal to look at him, staring anywhere else. Like if he didn't look at Kougami, he wasn't real.

"No. You don't."


	24. Chapter 24

_Even in dream I couldn't follow you_  
_to where the flinching victim had been tugged_  
_beneath the dirt, and yet_  
\- Eric Ormsby, Antlion

Three years later.

Tsunemori Akane. Kougami turned the name over in his mind, imagined the small girl, so hesitant with the Dominator in her hands, eyes lit bright by the weapon's influence. Her hands shook, skinny legs threatened to give out underneath her, but still she persisted, stuck to her ideal, that she could save people. That people could still be saved. That they were something human, under the heavy veil of Sibyl's influence. Something human was left.

Kougami wasn't so sure anymore.

Three years, strained, hard, rough. Three years alone. Weeks where he didn't talk. Months where Ginoza avoided looking at him if he didn't have to, he began referring to the Enforcers as nothing more than hunting dogs. Ginoza had always loved his dogs. He was cruel, he was cold to the humans. 

Tsunemori Akane was kind. She had been strong, even thrown into the case they had taken her first day, the death, the very real threat to her life that the girl had posed. And still she tried to save her. Still she saved a life. She was young, she was naive. She was everything Kougami had been once, everything Ginoza had been once. Once they had thought they could save the world. Tsunemori Akane thought that she could save the world.

She thought there was a world worth saving.

The first time he woke, in the hospital bed, Ginoza was in the chair beside him, fast asleep. He probably thought he had to look after his enforcer, to make sure Kougami wasn't still doing whatever it was he had done to get him shot in the first place. Duties of an Inspector and all that. Kougami was beneath him now. He had fallen too far to be saved. He had fallen too far to be loved.

He didn't wake Ginoza. His Inspector slept little enough as it was. 

Of course, he didn't stay, and the second time Kougami woke he was alone. Not long enough, Akane came to see him soon after. He told her that she might allow him to work as a detective. If he told her that, she might believe him. She might let him work a detective. He might have some semblance of freedom once again. Maybe Ginoza would see him as something other than a dog.

Maybe he could find the truth that Sasayama had died for. The white haired blurry creature that had haunted his nightmares for three years.

Makishima.

If Kougami didn't hunt him down first, he would take more. He would kill more, kill again, find more people like Kozaburou Touma and fan the flames that had brought this down on them all. That had knocked Kougami off the cliff's edge too far down to save Ginoza. He would fall too, and he would fall too far for Kougami to catch him. Or he would fall beside Kougami, become the thing he hated. A hunting dog like all the others. A sacrificial fighter for the Sibyl System.

He didn't dream. He barely slept, restless, worn, too tired. He was herded into the back of a paddy wagon, with the others, they were silent. Kunizuka had a portable music player, Masaoka slept. Kagari had his small video game device, they had no reason to talk to each other. They weren't treated like humans, and, in a way, they could no longer behave like them. They were prisoners, hunting dogs, in the back of a van with no human driver, no one to manipulate, no way to be free. He should have gotten used to it, after three years. Masaoka told him he never would. That it never got easier. That you stole human moments when you could. Like Kagari's games. Like Kunizuka's music. The paint that sometimes stained Masaoka's fingers.

Kougami didn't have that. All he had was his work. All he had was a blurry photo, memories. Someone who didn't love him anymore.

The drone factory was isolated, silent everywhere but the cafeteria. It felt muted, apart from the world. He had no concept of where in the world he was, having been driven here by the paddy wagon, no windows, no point or reference. He could have gone to another world, one made of sterile walls and murder mysteries, and he would have had no idea. He could be nowhere. He could be no one.

He was an instrument. A weapon.

And when Ginoza's vitriol was directed at him he did not fight back. After all, a dog knew better than to bite it's master.

Tsunemori Akane trusted him. She let him solve the case, she let him fight. She watched him handle his gun and didn't think he would turn it on her. She trusted in his judgement, and his intuition. And maybe that was her first mistake.

She was sitting outside the factory, watching the sun rise as the drones came to take the killer into custody. He stood away, smoking, watching her, the turmoil of confusion that crossed her young, unmarred face. She sunk her shoulders, wrapped her standard issue MWPSB coat around her skinny frame. Maybe it would be easier if he could think as highly of her as she did of him. If he could admire her. If he didn't want to use her. Use the freedom she granted. Use the faith she had in him.

Had he really gone so far as to use a young girl like that?

Ginoza took his cigarettes, lit one. He stared at the ground, over the rim of his glasses, hair shadowing his pale, gaunt face.

"You did well." He muttered. He didn't look at Kougami as he exhaled smoke.

"It was Tsunemori. She just allowed me to perform my duties to the best of my ability. And Masaoka. He sniffed out this case the minute he walked in." Kougami watched him, watched his shoulders go stiff when Masaoka was mentioned. His hand twitched, long, elegant fingers curling like they needed something to hold.

Kougami longed to slip his hand into Ginoza's. To give him an anchor, something to hold on to. Something real, stable in all of this. It wasn't the mess that it had been, to be sure, but it was still wrong. He was still made to lead the two people who had betrayed him. Still made to face them, to be the strong one. To quell every emotion he had. Kougami wanted to burn the system down. To convince Ginoza to run away with him. To take him far away from hue checks and crime coefficients and to teach him to love again.

In the end Ginoza walked away.

Sometimes he wished he could dream, so that he might dream of the way Ginoza used to smile.

They were herded once more like cattle into the back of the paddy wagon, and Kagari stretched out on the floor, rested his head in his hands and stared at the ceiling. Kougami nudged him with his foot.

"What?" Kagari asked, sitting up.

"Good job, with the case." Kougami offered.

"You kick me to say good job?" Kagari laughed. "Never done that before."

"Kougami hits people instead of telling them he loves them." Kunizuka teased. "That's why he and Inspector Ginoza fight so much."

Kougami scoffed.

"Sorry." Kunizuka shrugged. "Overstepped."

"No, it's fine." He shrugged. "Surprised it took you guys this long to start teasing me about it."

"You talked to him today." Kunizuka offered. "And neither of you attacked each other. Thought it might start to be okay." Kunizuka was fiddling with her music player, slipped the earbuds in, effectively cutting off the conversation.

They had slipped into silence again. A computer in sleep mode. Drones, powered down, waiting to be needed again. Keeping time before they were considered useful.

Ginoza stayed behind, writing his reports, filing the paperwork, the admittance papers for taking their killer into custody. Kougami stayed, pretending he was working, keeping an eye on the man he still loved. He didn't go home. He barely made it to the sofa in the rec room before he was fast asleep, curled in on himself, still in his suit, he shuddered from the early winter cold. 

Kougami sighed, retreated to his own room, and came back with the comforter from the bed he never used anymore. It was pushed aside, shoved into a corner, stacked with books that he had to dislodge to get the blanket that he draped over Ginoza's slight form. And Ginoza curled into the blanket, his long fingers closing in the fabric, a soft sigh escaped him. Kougami couldn't help himself. He traced a hand over Ginoza's hair, letting the soft strands slip through his fingers. Touched his cheek when he slid the glasses off so they wouldn't be broken. And still, Ginoza didn't wake. He was exhausted, Kougami could feel it. It sunk in deep, taking Kougami with it, and he curled into a soft reading chair, asleep himself in minutes, listening to the steady rise and fall of Ginoza's breath.

If Tsunemori Akane found them there when she arrived, she didn't say. She showed no reaction when she ordered coffee for the office, there were no knowing smirks, no insinuations, she treated them as she always had.

Ginoza knew, though. He refused to look at Kougami, he didn't talk. His hands shook around the coffee cup and he remained at his desk, not working, not focused, tense and silent.

"Mr. Ginoza?" Akane chanced, careful, almost frightened.

He set the coffee cup down, it was already empty. "I need to take a personal day. I was in the office late filing the paperwork for our previous case. I trust you can handle things here." His voice was sharp, it was clipped.

It was poison at his lips.

Kougami didn't have it in him to follow. Ginoza didn't want him to. It was over. Like Kunizuka had implied, they were working toward a sort of peace. They didn't hate each other, but what they had was oceans away.

He hated knowing that Sibyl had been right. That his choice of romantic partner had been so wrong. He hated that he had hurt the one good thing that had happened to him. He hated himself for it all.

"Inspector Tsunemori, do you mind if I step outside to smoke?"

"Don't you usually smoke in here?" Kagari interjected.

Kougami rolled his eyes.

"No, it's fine." Tsunemori Akane smiled, and he wondered if that was right, or if she was trying not to notice.

He leaned over the balcony. There were scanners in place to stop him from jumping. The nicotine in his lungs would kill him, but not fast enough. The job would kill him, but it wasn't enough. And he didn't want to die before there was justice for what had happened. Until he knew what had happened. It wasn't right. He wanted to make it right. He wanted to be right. He was none of those things. He was too rough, he was too much, he was a hunting dog, brutal, who could turn on his master at any moment.

Sibyl didn't want him to be human.

So he wouldn't be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I have been on a very sporadic update schedule recently and I am still very sorry but I do still love writing this. If I start taking too long to update again, please, please bother me about it at inconvenientplaces on tumblr. I also take requests and post a lot of drabble fics there.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explicit content warning. I love comments, reviews, criticism, ideas, everything you can offer me, here or at inconvenientplaces on tumblr. And I love every single person who gets far enough to read this.

_You talk far too much_  
_For someone so unkind_  
_I will wipe the salt off of my skin_  
_And I'll admit that I got it wrong_  
_And there is grey between the lines_  
\- CHVRCHES, Leave a Trace

Kougami pretended he didn't see Ginoza falling apart. He pretended not to notice how close the barbs of his words cut to himself, barely lashing out at Kougami, at Masaoka anymore. He lashed out at himself, instead, his words cut just as deep as if they had been aimed at Kougami. If this was a test, Kougami didn't know what it was supposed to do. If the powers that be were testing him, or were testing Ginoza, or were testing whether they could function together at all, as hateful as they had become.

And then Kougami began to see the signs.

A mention here, a word there, that someone, something, was behind the things they were investigating. Had provided the man at the factory with the program to turn the drones on his bullies. Had provided the ghost they were chasing with the means to kill the humans behind the identities that he stole. Someone was pulling the strings, but Kougami had no means to say who. He had no evidence, and he knew better than to bring this up with Ginoza. Because Kougami thought he knew. He thought he had an idea who could be behind this. That blurry photo, white hair, white coat. Stood out so bright against the dark of the city and yet he went unseen.

But he couldn't tell Ginoza that. Not when he was breaking already, as hard as he was.

Tsunemori allowed him to work almost like he was free. She didn't know what to do with the Enforcers, and Kougami found he was not afraid to use that to his advantage, to push her in the directions he wanted to go, to give her only the information what would lead her to conclusions he had already made. Maybe it was wrong, maybe it was manipulative, but it allowed Kougami to feel human. It allowed him to work.

He discovered that filtering his ideas through her forced Ginoza to listen to him. It forced Ginoza to recognize what he had lost when he stopped treating Kougami like a human. It forced Ginoza to look at him. Made him see a man, not a weapon, not a hunting dog. And maybe, if that kept on, he would start to see Kougami Shinya again.

He saw nothing, when he looked at Kougami. He saw a useful tool in his arsenal. A piece of his team that needed to be kept, controlled, so the good parts could be used. Hidden away when that usefulness expired. He wasn't treated like a human and sometimes he didn't think he was. Still, he collected the signs, little notes on his wall, ties to the things three years ago that had broken them apart. More bricks in the wall between them. More evidence that something beyond Kougami's own obsessions and cruel neglect had been what hurt Ginoza. What turned him cold and callous, hiding behind his pressed suits, those stupid useless glasses. His own finely tuned facade of control. And that was pulled so tight that Kougami could see the strain, the cracks.

They were the only two left in the office, and Kougami knew that at any moment Ginoza was going to get up with some thin excuse to leave. He wouldn't allow himself to be alone with Kougami anymore.

"Gino?" He chanced, hoped he was granted a moment.

"You have no reason to be here anymore. You have permission to return to your quarters, Enforcer."

"You've been here three days straight. You slept in your office again."

"I don't see how that's any of your business."

"Am I no longer allowed to be concerned about you?"

"Frankly, no. You're not."

Kougami sighed, got up and approached his desk, pretended not to see the flicker of something like fear that crossed his vision. "I'll ask you again, Kougami, return to your quarters. You are dismissed from your duties for the day."

"Go home, Gino. Get some sleep, eat something. You're killing yourself staying here."

The silence hung between them, thick, heavy, sinking into something tangible, where he stood just this side of too close to his former lover. Long seconds where Kougami was not turned away. Still, Ginoza couldn't look at him. Slipped his glasses off, cleaning them with the hem of his jacket, his head hung low.

"I have nowhere else to be." He whispered, finally.

"You have a home. Don't you?"

"It's empty." He managed, his voice was hardly there. "It's cold."

Kougami leaned close, he gathered Ginoza into his arms, and he was not turned away. Ginoza didn't even react. For the first time in three years, he held Ginoza, the first man he had ever loved, the only person he thought he would ever love. He was so thin, so cold in Kougami's arms, and he sunk against his chest, Kougami pushed a hand through his hair. It was just as soft as he remembered. Ginoza trembled, and Kougami gave him the grace of pretending he didn't notice.

He just held on, there was nothing else he could do. 

"Let go." Ginoza begged.

He didn't.

"Let go."

"Gino, come with me. You need to rest."

"Please, Kougami, let go. I can't." He pushed back, finally, hands rough, the first time he had actually touched Kougami in years, and not just responded to the touches Kougami had given.

So he let go. 

And Ginoza kissed him, with all the desperation he could muster. He kissed him, deep, and hard, and unrelenting, tugged Kougami back to him, there were tears gathered in his eyes. Kougami tried not to press the kiss, ran his hands over Ginoza's arms instead, took his hands.

"Let me help you." Kougami whispered, in the space between their kiss.

"Help me." Ginoza breathed, kissed him again. "Help me."

He followed Kougami to Kougami's chambers, they knew better than to touch each other where there were the eyes of the Sibyl System, but the tension was there, like wire tying them together, their hands hovered too close. Ginoza opened the door, he had to pretend he was still in charge. He had to find some sense of control in all this.

It lasted only until the door closed.

They were kissing again, grasping at each other, desperate, Ginoza's hands held a surprising strength despite his state and he made Kougami's mouth open to him, they kissed like they were fighting. Kougami pushed him toward the sofa, the one he used instead of the bed pushed aside, to make space for training. That gave him the strength to lift Ginoza, wrapping his legs around Kougami's waist, he could feel heat pooling at all points of contact. He dropped Ginoza on the sofa, hovered over him, kissed against his throat, along his collar, loosening his tie, pulling at it. He wanted every layer between them gone, and Ginoza was breathing his name, litanies of _help me, Kou, help_.

Kougami sat up, yanked his own shirt off, undid the front of his trousers to relieve some of the pressure on his swelling arousal. Maybe this was all wrong. No, definitely, this was all wrong. He should have cleared the bed. He should have put Ginoza to sleep, he shouldn't be touching himself, Ginoza desperate and panting underneath him. This was just going to make everything worse. But Ginoza had managed to undo his shirt, his tie hanging loose still in it's not, the open sides of his white shirt fell away like he was shedding his skin, his defenses.

Kougami took his tie in one hand when he lowered his head, to run his lips, his tongue over Ginoza's collar, down to small, sensitive nipples that he took into his mouth, drew them peaked and taut, his other hand skimmed down a skinny waist, he tried not to think about the fact that he could feel Ginoza's ribcage under his hand, the dips and curves of his hip. He tried to pretend this was right.

Even when his fingers were inside Ginoza, slick with lubrication he hated to know he kept for when the nights were too cold, too alone, he missed Ginoza more than he could bear, he pretended it was right. That Ginoza was begging for more, not for salvation that Kougami couldn't provide. Salvation wasn't given with desperate kisses, it wasn't given with fingers and teeth and tongue and whatever had changed irreparably between them. When he bent Ginoza's long legs, spread him open, pushed so deep inside, he knew Ginoza wasn't begging for him. He was begging for some sort of sanctuary, from this job, this world, his own mind.

He wondered how dark hued they both were.

When they finished, Kougami made sure they both finished, Ginoza remained. He didn't cry, Kougami could see the way his shoulders tensed, fighting some kind of emotion they would never talk about, anger or regret or something deeper, closer to fear. But he made no move to leave, only to cover his nakedness with one of Kougami's worn blankets.

Kougami shifted them so Ginoza lay over him, their bodies warm and worn with spent sex, with wasted emotions still bleeding at their cores. Ginoza was still too slight, laying over him, curled up, curled tight, he made himself smaller, so Kougami could protect him. He gathered the other blanket, wrapped it around his lover. Or whatever they were now.

He didn't dream of the ocean. He dreamed of the skies, stars and constellations he couldn't name, swirling with smoke like cigarettes. He dreamed he sat in the woods, wrapped in blankets, someone curled to his side. It was Ginoza, it was Sasayama, it was that blurry white haired demon he had never seen, it was Tsunemori, small and trusting and brave. And as they watched the skies, the stars began to fall to the earth, and they splattered to the ground heavy and wet like corpses. Or they were corpses. It didn't matter. The world was ending.

He woke alone. That didn't surprise him. Tsunemori was the only one in the office, and he supposed that shouldn't be surprising either. But minutes turned to hours and Ginoza didn't show up. And neither did Masaoka. 

"Mr. Ginoza and Mr. Masaoka were supposed to be on shift today?" Tsunemori finally asked, well into what had to be her fifth cup of coffee. "Mr. Kougami, could you go check on Mr. Masaoka? I'll try to get Mr. Ginoza on the phone." Her hands trembled, with nerves or caffeine or both.

"Masaoka? Can I come in?" It remained strained between them, they worked together well but Masaoka would know that Kougami knew better than to make a social call.

"What do you want?" His voice was rough, slurred, but the door unlocked all the same.

Kougami sat across from him, lit a cigarette, offered the carton to Masaoka. "You're on duty today. And you're drunk."

"Well, shit happens."

"Guess so."

"Nobuchika was by this morning."

"Figured."

"If it wouldn't get me taken away from him I'd have killed you a hundred times over." Kougami knew he meant every word of it, and he was sure Masaoka was capable of going through on his threat.

"Where is he?"

"Home, probably. Somewhere you can't go." Masaoka slammed down his glass, drank from the bottle. "Don't know why he doesn't just have you put back in isolation."

Kougami took a deep breath, steeled himself and stood. "I'll tell Tsunemori you're sick."

"We can work together, you're a good detective, but don't come back to this room again, Kou. Unless it's to say goodbye."

"Sorry, old man."

"Not me you need to be apologizing to."

Kougami left, but he didn't know where he was going. Masaoka was right. Home wasn't somewhere he could go anymore. All he could do was try and fix what had gone wrong the day he found Sasayama's body.

Just because Sibyl didn't recommend his chosen romantic partner didn't mean he wasn't in love. And love cut deeper than any knife, deeper than the sight of any mangled mutilated corpse reminding him of his failures. He had been in love last night, and he hadn't been able to keep more than a fleeting few hours. If that. He kept walking, kept smoking, kept no mind of where he went. There was only so far he could go, after all.

Ginoza was in the office by the time he finally returned, and he steeled himself, crumbled his empty carton of cigarettes and stepped inside, to face his sins.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot stress enough how grateful I am for the attention and praise lavished on this beast of a fic. You are all amazing, this fandom is amazing, come here and let me love you. inconvenientplaces on tumblr.

_Come out, come out, to the sea my love_  
 _And just drown with me._  
-Daughter, Shallows

Ginoza acted like nothing had happened. And Kougami let him, he let them go on like none of this had hurt. Like he hadn’t seen Ginoza falling apart, that thin veneer of control slipping, tearing, pulling and when it broke it shattered and left bloody anyone who tried to pick him up. It tore into Kougami’s skin, he could feel it itching, needling at him, even as Ginoza acted like the only thing wrong was their case.

Another plastic corpse.

A mockery of the ones that had done this all to them. There was no meaning, there was no message. They said nothing, stared lifeless, artistically arranged, and they were taken away from Kougami while the others pretended it was the same killer. Kouzaburou Touma, found. They silenced him before he could tell them how wrong they were. They locked him away and they told him he was too close to the case and when Ginoza left he touched Kougami’s hand, a long moment, and he could feel the touch burning into his skin, searing pain when it was lost.

Tsunemori Akane sat with him, she listened to him, she released him to work and she believed in his madness. And in return he bathed her in cigarette smoke and made her into his pawn, a voice for his thoughts, an echo of what he had been. He saw the way she looked at Ginoza and wondered if she could love him better than he ever could. If Ginoza would ever let anyone love him again. Because when Kougami closed his eyes he could still feel the last time they touched, taking him on the old sofa, stained with nicotine, with too many sleepless nights, with too much of the ruin that Kougami had become.

If she loved him she wouldn’t stain him. She would clear the darkness in his hue and tell him that it was right, that Kougami was wrong, that there was hope left still in this world and none of them had to drown to make things better. If she loved Ginoza she would bring him out into the light and Kougami would have to let go because he was still drowning in the inky black waters of the end of the world. Kougami was still being carried out to sea farther and farther away from the gardens of Heaven that Sibyl offered. He was still dark, he was still a prisoner, a hunting dog, kept chained so he wouldn’t bite his master.

Because Kougami just had to fight back.

He had to insist that he was right. He had to drag Tsunemori down with him, into the bowels of society, show her people that could hurt her, show her things that could ruin her. He had to make this right. He had to prove that these plastic corpses made light of Sasayama, of what they had been through, claimed that all these things the plastic bodies had taken from him meant nothing. No one would remember them. Not in light of the pieces of art being displayed, made of the death of young girls. Beautiful and fragile things, corpses in gardens. There was enough there to captivate, like an old film, like the art that the killer thought they were making. There was no meaning.

Tsunemori listened where no one else would. She believed, even when he lied. She trusted him, implicitly, and he knew it would lead to her ruin and he couldn’t bring himself to care. The things she allowed of it were too important. He needed this. He needed her. And maybe he was toying with her feelings, maybe he was letting her think he cared more than he did, but what they did was more important than anyone’s feelings. The things she allowed were so much more important than the things she felt. Or the ruin he knew it would bring. The only thing that was important anymore was the case, was making the world safe. Was making this tiny island haven in a broken and shattered planet a safe place for Ginoza.

Tsunemori Akane didn’t know the monster that she allowed to thrive.

He took her to meet the other monsters and it was a warning. A show that this was somewhere he could end up, that she walked alongside him and did not understand how dangerous that was. And yes, letting the monsters speak got them the answers they needed, a skeletal man, a forbidden artist, a young girl, but gazing into the abyss had its consequences. It was like an old detective novel, the kind he read when he was young, twists and turns and dark alleys and betrayal. But she watched the monsters and she smiled for him even still, proud that they had found an answer to their plastic girls.

“I think I’m learning a lot from you.” She curled into the seat of the car, tugged her skinny knees to her chest and rested her chin. “More than I’m learning from Mr. Ginoza.”

“Gino’s good. He’s just rough.” Kougami lit a cigarette. He spent too much time defending someone who would let him die.

She sighed, and he realized how easy it would be to rope her in completely. To make Ginoza the villain. To make Kougami’s crime coefficient, his status in their society seem unfair. To make her believe he was the hero of this story.

“He doesn’t trust you. And he doesn’t trust me.” Tsunemori protested. “He thinks I’m a child and you’re a criminal.”

“He’s not wrong about me.” Kougami muttered, bitter. “The abyss gazes back.”

She didn’t answer that.

There was something missing. Of course there was something missing there was always something missing. Some way that the person who had the motive, the reasons for the murders could not carry them out. Some way they had to be getting help, a gap between the means and the methods and the motives. There was a figure dressed in white like some mockery of an angel who handed out the weapons and watched the monsters play.

But he couldn’t focus on it, the white blurred and moved and slipped through his fingers like water, like silk, like ephemera. It twisted and it danced just out of his reach but it bled like a mortal man, footprints where it had been, fingerprints on the plastic bodies, the drones, the ghosts of the internet. He could only watch the flashes of white where it had been, grasping at air, at cold mist, like water.

There was something they were all missing. He was chasing a ghost.

Tsunemori Akane believed in ghosts.

She let him chase the others, through old buildings, a school out of date, out of time, scared young girls each convinced they were the next victim. Hidden away from the world, allowed to be innocent, allowed to play at youth they would never be allowed to have. Each one would be sold to the highest bidder, given a rich husband and not a care in the world. He didn’t envy them. He ran past them, ignored their cries, ignored their fears, there was an answer.

There was a girl, beautiful and slim and young, and her eyes held nothing. No remorse, no regret, no soul, even. She was empty, and as artificial as the voice of the Dominator that told him he could kill her. That told him she was more a monster than he was. Told him she had killed her friends, killed her lovers for the sake of art. Told him everything he had already known.

The same voice that told him so long ago they could not safely recommend his choice of romantic partner. A voice he would hear in his head every day until it killed him. Even if he found a way to escape he could not forget.

But they couldn’t catch the monster.

“Mr. Makishima?”

_Makishima._

“Mr. Makishima?”

He played the clip again and again and again until the words, the sounds, the lilting teasing voice was ingrained into his mind as the sounds of the Dominator, as Ginoza’s grasping hands when he was desperate with lust. Until it was real. Because it was real. There was proof, no matter how slim, of the ghost he had chased three years. Proof that maybe he had not fallen for nothing. There was something still to be worked for. If the ghost had a name, if it could speak, if it could move through the monsters and the humans and be known, then it could die.

He could kill the thing that had taken so much from him.

Ginoza found him. Ginoza said he was sorry, he acknowledged the wall between them stacked high with bodies and mistrust. And when his hand fell to Kougami’s shoulder it was skinny and it was cold and Kougami had to commit it to memory. Because he was allowed so little. But there was a crack in the wall and he had to force his way through. He had to offer Ginoza something.

“Stay.” He asked, when Ginoza turned to leave.

“Why?”

_Because I need you._ “Just, stay?”

“What do you want, Kougami?”

Kougami reached for his hand, and Ginoza took it and he was so slight, so cold, he had pulled away from everything and everyone who could offer him love and Kougami wanted to break down every single wall they had built over the years and run away with him.

“I want to help.”

“You did.” Ginoza looked down, but his fingers tangled with Kougami’s and Kougami felt his own heart skip, for the first time since he had fallen. “We wouldn’t have solved this without you. You were right, this whole time you were right and I ignored it.”

“You did what you had to.” He took his other hand, rested it on Ginoza cheek, fingertips brushing his hair.

“I did what Sibyl told me to.” His head rested against Kougami’s hand, and Kougami saw the shadows under his eyes, the hollows of his cheeks. 

“Gino, you did the right thing. Look at where you are, how far you’ve come.” He leaned close, brushed his lips across that pale cheek.

And Ginoza leaned into his touch, held him tight, standing in the hallway of the old school like they had when they were young and they sought comfort in each other. They held each other like there were no walls, like Kougami wasn’t a prisoner, like Ginoza wasn’t falling apart. He pressed his face to the skinny shoulder and he breathed him in and he held on and there was a silent resolve to not let go of him again. 

“You left.” Ginoza whispered, his hands clenching in the back of Kougami’s jacket. “None of it matters, you left.”

“I’m right here.” He promised.

Ginoza wasn’t Tsunemori. He didn’t believe him when he was lying. He didn’t trust him implicitly. He wouldn’t follow Kougami to the monsters. He wouldn’t let Kougami use him. Too much had passed between them, they had seen too much of the abyss in each other.

But for that moment, Ginoza believed him. He held on, he let Kougami gather him into his arms and act like maybe he could protect the one thing that was so important to him. Ginoza sunk into him and held on and it was like none of this had happened. They were safe again. They were hopeful.

They left the hallway and Kougami watched the walls rise once again. But they were cracked, and he watched Kougami from behind those stupid fake glasses and he could see the cracks in his armor. So Kougami dared to hope. He touched the small of Ginoza’s back as they walked and he was not pushed away. He slipped through the cracks and he was allowed to comfort. He could protect. He might be able to make this right. The ghosts were real. And Ginoza was allowing him back in, admitting he was right. Admitting that something was right in all of this.


End file.
